In Vignettes
by tiltingaxis
Summary: *RE-UPLOAD* "Life only really has one beginning and one end. The rest is just a whole lot of middles." A series of middles. AU as of season 2.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Most of you may know that this story has been posted before. I took it, and all of my other stories, down when I decided to go on a hiatus. However, at the encouragement of a few readers and friends, I'm reuploading this again. For those of you who still has my name on your alert list, I apologize in advance for the spamming that's about to happen.**

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><p>She's prone to crack. Not that anybody notices. She tries and tries and <em>tries<em>, but her personality just always gets the better of her. She frowns at the mirror when she catches the blue stain near her collarbone, courtesy of Thomas Bronson from the hockey team. God, even the freshmen are slushing her now. Her frown turns into an expression of steely determination.

_You're Rachel Berry. You're loud, annoying. You say what's on your mind all the time regardless of what people think. Your nose is the size of a golfball but you love it to death._

Really, it shouldn't hurt this much that nobody likes her.

"It's lonely at the top, remember?" she says out loud to her reflection, her voice confident. "People just don't understand things that are different. They're all threatened by you because you're going to be somebody. You're going to be bigger than anybody else in Lima, Ohio. The big lights are waiting for you, Rachel. And you're going to make it. So who cares about that slushie today? Who cares about man-hands or RuPauls or pornographic pictures on the toilet wall? These people are losers and you're better off alone anyways. You don't need a friend. You've got your talent and you've got destiny on your side." She forces herself to smile her best _look-out world!_ smile that she could muster.

_**"I like you."**_

Her smile falters.

Even when he isn't around he ruins her act.


	2. My heart's a drummer

Finn was a drummer at heart. His mom always told him that he had this weird connection with drums, even when he was in the womb. His father played the drums. She had said that during her fifth month of pregnancy with him, he would be kicking like crazy every time his old man got behind the drum kit. She liked to think that it was hereditary, Finn and his passion for the instrument. His father left them for the Middle-East two months later, and he used to kick like crazy everytime the story about the war came on the news too.

The first real memory he ever had of drums though, he was four. His mother was working as a secretary for Mr Bradley, this old dude with a huge house. Finn never really knew what Mr Bradley did, but he remembered the house because he used to tag along with his mom for a period when she couldn't afford daycare. He spent most of his time there stuck to his mom like glue because he had a tendency of breaking things when left to his own devices. Anyway, Mr Bradley had a teenage son, Andrew. Finn didn't know him personally or anything, but Mr Bradley loved to talk about his kid. He remembers clearly that day when he got lost because he was distracted by the scary-looking statue Mrs Bradley just bought for their foyer. By the time he tore his eyes away from the naked lady, his mom and the housekeeper were already gone. He had panicked a little as he walked up the staircase to look for his mom. He tried not to cry but the house was huge and really creepy and by the time he reached Andrew's room, he was downright terrified.

But then he saw it. It was like seeing the love of your life for the first time. Well, if you met the love of your life when you were four. His vision had zeroed in on the drum kit, the rest of the surrounding a blur. He was so sure that the spot where the kit stood was the brightest spot in the room because it was the only thing he could see. Next thing he knew, his feet had already taken him nearer, until he was already sitting behind it. He ran one short, chubby hand against the rim of the cymbals and it just felt right. Even when he was four he knew.

They found him five minutes later (The unholy pounding made sure of that.). His mom had been furious, as she pulled him by the ear while simultaneously apologising to the old man, who had a bemused look on his face but told her that it was fine. He even smiled. Finn liked Mr Bradley.

But Finn also remembers, with glaring clarity, what happened later that same day. The mailman had came with a letter that pretty much changed his whole existence, although of course he didn't know that. He remembers tears rapidly falling and the wet spot on his mom's blouse. He remembers her turning around when he asked "Mommy are you okay?", grabbing him in a bone-crushing hug and literally wailing into his ear, completely incoherent. He also remembers being in serious pain but not being able to move because he somehow knew he wasn't supposed to. "Oh Finn, what do I do?" she had hiccuped, and he thinks today that that was the moment he began feeling the need to protect his mom so acutely. His father had been missing for four years. But it was still weird to know that the hope you've been told to hold out for since you were born had been useless.

(Sometimes, it pisses him off that his first good memory is constantly overshadowed by his first bad one.)

Her job with Mr Bradley didn't last long. Young single mothers were just not secretary material according to Mrs Bradley. But when she left the job, Mr Bradley had given her something better. At least in little Finn's opinion. He came home from daycare that day to find the drum kit, gleaming in the spot in the middle of his living room. The five year old had rubbed his eyes vigorously, wondering if it was a dream. "Surprise," his mom said, although she didn't look too happy about it, with her sunken eyes and the slight slur to her speech from that bottle of vodka in her hand. But five year olds don't notice things like that. He had whooped and yelled and ran over to that kit, running his hands over the cymbals almost reverently.

He didn't know how to play, and they couldn't really afford lessons because his mom was in-between jobs, but Finn liked to just sit in that drummer's chair, waving the sticks in the air like he had seen people do on television. Sometimes when she was in a good mood, she even allowed him to pound away for awhile.

When he was seven and his mom secured a permanent place at Wal Mart, he got his very first drum lessons. His teacher was a long haired hippy called Mr Grey, but Finn knew him as Leaf. Leaf told him he was a natural, and Finn thought he was too. There was just something right when he was behind the drums. The sticks always feel like a natural extension of his hand, and he had an inner sense of rhythm, subconsciously telling him what the next beat would be.

When they were maybe eleven, Puck started picking up the guitar because he had it in his head that they could be rockstars. Puck could sing lead and play the guitar and be the one all the girls went crazy for, and Finn would be the one behind the drums, the awesome drummer all the guys would want to be. Needless to say, the dream didn't last very long when both of them realize they couldn't write a song to save their lives. Then they moved on to better, more attainable dreams. Like football (Although the ball had never felt as natural in his hands as the drumsticks do).

If people asked him about drums, and who his favorite drummer was, he would say without missing a beat that it was Neil Peart. He'd go on and on about Rush whose music was weird and different and even freaky at times, but whose drummer was always known to be risky, to do things with the drums that most people wouldn't. But secretly, he always thought that if he could ever be an actual drummer, he wouldn't want to do all those things.

Part of the reason he loved the drums is because it was sturdy, reliable. It wasn't like the guitar, with riffs that could make a girl fall in love and chords that could break her heart. It wasn't like the piano, whose melody practically orders you to sit up straight and listen up, the keys luring you in. Finn figured drums were more like the backbone of a song, the steady and reliable fallback whose beat nobody really notices, but subconsciously react to with the tapping of their feet, or the drumming of their fingers, or the bobbing of their heads. Finn wanted to be_ that_ drummer. The one that makes the song just that much better with a sturdy, reliable beat that never fails to lift the music.

He was almost sixteen when he joined the Glee club. Or was blackmailed to join anyway. And Rachel Berry was something else. She scared him witless the first time they sang. His heart had been drumming on half-time, with short erractic on-beats. When she helped him with his voice for the first time in the auditorium, it changed into loud erratic open hi-hats, as he had laid her below him on that rug that was miraculously there, feeling the way her curves moulded into his. It beats in slow, barely there double beats when she looks at him, heartbroken and injured after he used her like the asshole he didn't know he was.

After a while he realized that his heart beats to the drum of Rachel Berry. That scared the fuck out of him.

When she gave up on him and fell for someone else, his heart stopped drumming. Stopped going into erratic hi-hats or open snares. It just went on beating regularly. Like a regular heart, the steady reliable beat of the drums were gone and replaced with the normal beat of the human heart, 60 beats per minute. He missed the sound terribly.

He said "I love you," and his heart drummed a solo at breakneck speed, completed with a crash on the cymbals.

Once, she had asked him to teach her. He'd spent the whole afternoon telling her what each part was for. The dissapointed look on her face as she sat on the chair while he stood in front her explaining what a hi-hat meant sailed right over his head as he encouraged her to hit the cymbals. At her half-hearted attempt he looked up and realized she just wanted to feel his body close in on hers. So he grinned (rather predatorily, he was proud to say), and stepped behind her without a word, picking up her tiny body and settled her against him.

He heard her sharp intake of breath as each of his hand firmly grasped each of hers. Ignoring her surprise, he guided her hand as he played the beat of his heart, sturdy and reliable. He taught her the song of his heartbeat and she learned eagerly, letting her hands feel the movments he was making, learning by heart each stroke and sound. If his heart followed to the beat of Rachel Berry, than her heart was a drummer.


	3. Making social progress

It all started with him clearing his throat. Repeatedly. She was sitting next to Artie, facing Mr Schue as he rambled on about love songs and he was six seats away on the other side of the room.

xXx

She had been the first one to arrive today and he was the second. The moment he walked through the door, she had been prepared with a dark scowl on her face. The glare he shot her match in its intensity and he chose the seat furthest away from where she was. Rolling her eyes, Rachel had turned her head away from his slouching figure to the paper in front of her. She really had no idea what she was reading (It was a note Jacob Ben Israel had unknowingly slipped between her Spanish textbook declaring his undying love for her), she had grabbed the first thing she saw in her bag. She stared intently at the paper in her hands, as if it was of the utmost importance. In reality, she was fuming. He was being _such_ a jerk. As if it was really his place to be angry when he was the one who was in the wong! The skirt she had worn was the same length they've always been and he never had any trouble with the others before! And yesterday had been such a pleasant day too before he decided to ruin it all by becoming an infantile boy and blowing up at her for no good reason. Just thinking about it was almost enough to make her walk up to him and slap his face.

She had been waiting patiently by his locker, as per usual, for him to finish practice. He was late and she had been worried, checking her watch to see that it was almost five thirty. She was tempted to leave the spot to look for him when suddenly he was limping towards her. Gasping, she had hurried over to him, meeting him halfway. The sight of his face made her wince. His lip was cut and the left side of his jaw was red and swollen. _That's going to leave a mark_, she thought idly as she cupped his face in her right hand.

"Finn, what happened?" she asked softly. He had turned his head away from her touch, which made her frown.

"Got into a fight," he mumbled, looking at the ground, his face grim.

"I can see that. What happened? You look awful."

"Karofsky was being an asshole, as usual." was his short answer. Her frowned deepened. What was wrong with him?

"Yeah? That doesn't usually end up with your face being a punching bag," she answered testily, annoyed by his cold behaviour. He looked up at her then, his eyes flashing.

"Hey. I held my own. You should see the fucker's face"

"Language, Finn," she admonished. He rolled his eyes at her and looked away again. Trying to stifle her anger, Rachel said nothing as she took his hand and began walking towards the exit. The hallways were almost deserted, save for a student or two, mostly headed towards one after school activity or another. She heard his feet shuffling against the floor and had to bite her tongue to keep herself from telling him to walk properly. She didn't want to start a fight when he was in such a foul mood. It wasn't until they were almost at her car that he opened his big mouth.

"Don't you have anything else to wear besides that short ass skirt?" he asked peevishly.

"_Excuse _me?" Rachel let go of Finn's hand to turn around and glare at him, her arms folded across her chest. He was staring back at her defiantly.

"You heard me," was his short answer, imitating her pose. They were the only two people around and she was tempted to just scream at him.

"What is _wrong_ with you today?" she asked, exasperated.

"There's nothing wrong with me. You're the one parading yourself around school in that- that _handkerchief_!" His eyes were looking pointedly at the skirt she was wearing as he flung his hands as if to say, _look_! She gasped dramatically and he rolled his eyes again. She felt the insane need to scratch those eyes out at the moment.

"There is nothing wrong with what I'm wearing Finn Hudson! I've worn this before! You never had any reason to complain!" She knew she was yelling by then, but who cared? She did not deserve this kind of treatment from him. Not when she hadn't done anything in the first place.

"Yeah, well maybe that's the problem!" he shot back sourly, his tone and volume matching hers. "You walk around in that tiny as hell _thing_ you call a skirt and it barely covers your ass!" She felt the tears prickling in the back of her eyes but she refused to cry. He was being ridiculously unreasonable! She looked up at him, her eyes flashing.

"Don't take your anger out at me you big buffoon! I didn't do anything!"

"I'm not taking my anger out on you! What the hell are you even talking about now?"

"I don't know what you and those stupid neanderthals in the football team were fighting about, but I didn't do anything, and I haven't done anything to deserve you yelling at me for absolutely no plausible reason!"

"I'm not yelling at you!"

"Yes you are! You're yelling right now! There is nothing wrong with the way I dress. I've always dressed this way. You _never_ had any problem with it before!"

"Yeah? Well that was _before_ I found out that those 'neanderthals' had pictures of you flashing your panties for the whole world to see!" he yelled, his face red from anger. She felt all the blood drain from her face.

"What?" she whispered, appalled. He didn't seem to hear her though. He was still breathing heavily, his jaw seemingly locked tight as he stared at somewhere behind her. She saw his hands curling into tight fists and she knew he was gritting his teeth.

"That snot-nosed creep with the jewfro has been printing photos of you and giving them to the football team so they would stop throwing him in the dumspter and take his money," he continued, his voice deadly. "I don't- _God_!" he was shouting again. She didn't think she had ever been scared of Finn before, but she was scared then. She was aware of their considerable height difference, but it had never been as obvious as it was right at that moment. When he was angry, he towers over her and she truly did feel like a midget. "I don't want to even _think_ about what they're doing with them!"

"I- How did you know?" she asked. She hadn't realize that she had been taking backward steps away from him until she felt the door handle of her car jabbing into her back.

"Karofsky, that motherfucker. I found him with the damn thing in the locker room. It fell out of the asshole's locker."

"I-"

"I swear to God I'm going to find every last picture and burn them if it's the last thing I do. Jacob is going to wish he'd never been born." He was still scaring her a little, but Rachel couldn't help the warm feeling that was festering in her stomach to see him so outraged at her expense. That was until he had to open his stupid mouth and killed it. "For the love of God Rach, just stop wearing those slutty little things," he had muttered under his breath. Her eyes snapped up immediately.

"Did you just call me a _slut_?" she asked, her voice dangerous. He looked taken aback momentarily, like he had no idea where she was coming from.

"Of course not!"

"You called my outfit slutty. You know this is the way I dress everyday Finn. Are you saying you think I dress like a _slut_ everyday? You think I'm a _slut_?" She could see the confusion pass over his face before his features darkened again.

"Oh my God Rachel! Were you even _listening_ to me at all? Those boys have pictures of you in your _underwear!_ _I_ don't have a picture of you in your underwear!"

"Oh so you're just mad because I didn't give you a slutty _picture _of me?"

"What- what-" Finn was sputtering incredulously. "That wasn't what I meant at all!"

"I can't believe you called me a slut!" she yelled, not listening to him.

"I didn't call you a slut! I said your skirts were slutty!"

"It's the same thing Finn!"

"No, it isn't! God, _why_ must you be _so_ dramatic _all_ the time?" That _hurt_. She turned around abruptly to face her car as she began to search for her car keys.

"Well I'm sorry my high-maintenence and penchant for 'drama' is such a hassle to you." she said archly. She heard him groan in frustration.

"Rach c'mon-"

"I'll have you know Finn Hudson," she said as she turned around to look at his frustrated face, "that I am used to the disgusting behavior the rest of the school bestow upon me. I have had slushies thrown in my face and I have had pornographic drawings of myself vandalized all over the school's property. And I've handled myself just fine. I do not need you and your misguided attempt at being heroic telling me what I can and cannot do with regards to my own body."

"Rach-"

"I don't need you to defend me." She could see it. She knew him well enough to know that something had been turned off in his head. His expression turned cool in the blink of an eye.

"Fine." His answer was short.

"_Fine_."

"Fine."

"Stop saying fine!"

"Okay." After three tries she finally managed to open the door of her car. He was still standing beside the vehicle, his expression hooded. It took her another four tries before she could start the engine because her hands were shaking profusely.

"I'm going now." He continued to be silent. She heaved a huge sigh of annoyance. "_Fine_. Have fun walking."

"Fine." She slammed the door and drove away.

Rachel had spent the rest of the night on pins and needles, anxiously waiting for his call so they could fix this mess they were suddenly in. They had never fought like this before. Their fights usually consisted of Finn saying something thoughtlessly and her reacting slightly more than the occasion called for. And it _always_ ended with him apologizing.

She skipped dinner, unable to eat because her stomach felt like it was rolling in the high seas. Her parents had been worried but she just smiled and told them she needed to catch up on her MySpace page. That was at six thirty. Rachel had laid on her bed, her fingers tapping the comforter incessantly. At seven when he still hasn't called, she decided to take a shower to cool her nerves. She left the door open in case he did. She took her time in the bathroom, pretending that she wasn't stalling for him. At eight, he still hasn't called and she was beginning to worry. She tried to do her homework but all the Math problems turned into his frown and the only words she could string together for her History report was his one, stupid word. _**Fine**_. By nine she was starting to get angry again. She couldn't believe he still hasn't called her yet.

Obviously, he felt the fight that they had was not worth the trouble to smooth over. Well that was just fine with her. She realized that she had been stupid in feeling guilty at all about their fight since he clearly didn't care enough about it anyway. But that didn't stop her from tossing and turning in her bed until two in the morning, startled by every sound made because she thought it might be her phone. By two, she felt the back of her eyes burning and convinced herself it was because of the lack of sleep. She needed to sleep if she didn't want to mess with her routine.

She missed her alarm. Rachel had woken up with a gasp at approximately seven in the morning with her clothes sticking to her back because her dad was hammering on her door. Catching the time, she had jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom to get ready, her nightmare fresh on her mind. In it, she had arrived at school welcomed by a multitude of slushie facials and catcalls of RuPauls and Treasure Trails. The whole school had been laughing at her and she didn't know why until she looked down to find herself in only her underwear. She had looked up and saw Finn standing in the middle of everyone else with his arms folded across his chest, frowning. "Finn!" she had yelled, eternally grateful to find him there. But suddenly his frown turned into a smirk and he told her it served her right for wearing that handkerchief to school and the rest of the students were slamming their hands against the lockers, scaring her. It took her a minute to wake up and realize it was her dad pounding on her door. She didn't have time to pick an outfit, forgetting to lay them out yesterday and had worn the first thing she had her hands on. It wasn't until she was driving that she realized she was wearing jeans. Rachel frowned.

The rest of the day wasn't much better. She barely saw him anywhere and when she did he wouldn't even look at her. Ever since they started dating, Finn always sat next to her in the classes they shared together. But that day in Spanish, he chose to seat at the far end of the room away from her. She bit back a frustrated yell and turned to face the board. If he wanted a cold war, he was going to get one. Her face was stoic the whole class, even when she caught Mr Schue looking at them in bemusement. She didn't even realize that Jacob Ben Israel wasn't sitting anywhere near her either. On her way out from Spanish class, she had bumped into her stalker but he hadn't so much as uttered a mewl. She was too distraught to notice. The only thing she was aware of was that Finn had left the class the minute the bell rang without so much as a backward glance.

And then there they were at Glee and Rachel realized that she hadn't heard a word Mr Schue was saying because she was too busy wasting her time on a stupid, _stupid_ boy. The stupid boy who wouldn't stop clearing his throat. She shot him a dirty glance and caught his eye. He rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue at her. Everyone turned to look at her when she had gasped in anger. She saw his amused smirk as she tried to find an excuse.

"Sorry. I thought I forgot to turn off my computer this morning," she rambled, saying the first thing that came to her mind. Mr Schue gave her a confused look and went back to whatever he was saying. She knew he was doing it just to drive her crazy. How was she supposed to concentrate when he kept clearing his throat every ten seconds? When Mr Schue had instructed her to pick a song she had to pass it to Mercedes because she didn't know the type of song he wanted as she wasn't listening to the lecture. She glared daggers at Finn from where she sat. She can't believe he made her pass over a solo! When Glee was over he was the first to leave and she was determined not to care. On her way out, Mercedes caught her arm.

"Look Rachel," she began "It's not like I'm not happy I got a chance to strut my stuff this week, but what is the deal with you and loverboy?" the girl had asked, her eyebrows raised.

"I have no idea to what you are implying Mercedes."

"Oh please girl," Mercedes scoffed. "You could cut the tension in that room with a knife. You're making the rest of us feel uncomfortable."

"I'm sorry if Finn's lack of maturity is a source of discomfort for you Mercedes. Believe me, it's one for me as well. Maybe when he decides to grow up one day he would stop being such a-"

"Whatever Britney. I do not want to be in the middle of whatever fight you're having with Justin. Just cut it out with the glaring and the sexual frustration."

"Noted."

He didn't call her that day either. And she wasn't about to call him so Rachel had taken this as a sign that he didn't want to make things right. She was not going to cry. She was determined that he wasn't going to ruin the rest of her night. Not again. She forced herself to bed at eleven and ignored the fact that she couldn't really sleep. At six, she had woken up and began her daily routine. Finn Hudson was the furthest thing from her mind. In fact, she wasn't even thinking about him. Not at all.

She arrived to school that day, taking the time to make sure she wore the shortest skirt she owned. It was a metaphor. And metaphors are important. Wearing that skirt was a metaphor that no man was ever going to change Rachel Berry, not even Finn Hudson. She was already walking halfway towards his locker when she remembered to turn around. Her locker was in the other direction.

"Berry!" Karofsky crowed when she walked past him. "Bend over a little baby! Show me them goods!"

"Oh please," she heard one of the cheerios mutter. "Like wearing that skirt's going to make that body look any less like a man's." Suddenly she remembered why she hated walking towards her locker alone. Ignoring everyone, she had gracefully taken what she needed and headed towards Math. In Math, Finn had taken to coughing every five minutes. After the third time, she frowned to herself, although she refused to stare at the back of his head. He was sitting in front of her, and everytime he coughed her desk would shake. She was trying to ignore the fact that she missed his smell and concentrated instead on the fact that he was ruining her notes with all the desk-rattling he was doing.

"Mr Goode?" she called, raising her hand fifteen minutes into class. The teacher turned to look at her expectantly.

"Yes Miss Berry? Do you have the answer to question number seven?"

"No, I'm sorry. I think Finn needs to go to the nurse." He had whipped his head around to glare at her and she noticed the dark circles under his eyes. His nose was red and swollen and she refused to think he looked like a cute little boy.

"I'm fine," he said tersely. Mr Goode frowned.

"Miss Berry may be right Mr Hudson. You don't sound very well and we simply cannot afford you infecting everyone else in this class with your virus. Go to the nurse's office." Finn had slowly cleared his table and left the room without meeting her gaze. He was impossible!

At Glee he didn't show. Rachel began to worry. Was he really sick? She was the first to arrive as usual. One by one the other members showed up but there was no sign of Finn. By the time Matt walked in, she knew he wasn't coming. Matt was always the last person to arrive because he was ususally fifteen minutes late. Nobody mentioned his absence and she wasn't about to. In the end however, she couldn't contain herself any longer.

"Why isn't Finn here?" she asked aloud, cutting in on Mr Schue's speech on rock and roll. Eleven pairs of eyes swiveled towards her.

"His mom took him home," Mr Schue explained before moving on.

"Oh." It had came out as a whisper. Was he really sick? What if he was food-poisoned? What if he was suffering from some fatal disease? What if he was _dying_? And all she had done in the last two days was to glower at him everytime he passed by. Rachel felt like crying. She needed to call him. She needed to know he was fine.

She was the first to leave Glee, shooting out of the room so fast she didn't have time to say goodbye. Rachel didn't think she had ever driven home so fast before. She had run up to her room, shouting a quick hello to her daddy along the way. Setting her bag next to her desk, she took out her phone and called him. He didn't answer. She called him again. No answer. After seven attempts and two text messages, she got it in her head that he was refusing to speak to her. Throwing herself onto the bed, she finally burst into tears.

Rachel refused to leave her room until her dad had unlocked her door with the spare key and demanded her to tell them what happened. Her daddy was behind him, a worried look on his face and a glass of water in his hand. Bursting into a fresh set of tears, she related her problem once she had calmed down. Daddy was rubbing her back soothingly when she was finished and dad was shaking his head in anger. He had half a mind to drive to Karofsky's house to beat the lving daylights out of him but she had begged him not to, saying that the matter was already resolved (It wasn't, but she wasn't about to start getting her fathers into the mess that was her high school life).

"I agree with Finn. Your skirts are too short. I told you you shouldn't be wearing them to school." her dad had told her. He was not helping at all.

"Honey, you're not helping the situation," her daddy said. "Rachel sweety, I doubt Finn is going to die any time soon. Maybe he just fell asleep." Rachel shook her head in devastation.

"He's angry at me. Now he won't even _speak_ to me. He's going to die thinking that I don't love him!" Her parents stared at each other over her head, her dad's expression clearly saying _she got this from you. _It was nine in the evening and her fathers had managed to calm her down somewhat and made her get ready for bed. She cried some more when she was under the covers but she was determined to make things right somehow. She was going to speak to him tomorrow.

By two in the morning Rachel realized she was never going to go to sleep. So she slipped out of bed to wash her face. Turning on her study lamp, Rachel had rummaged through her drawer to take out a blank piece of pink paper. Taking out her favorite pen (bedazzled within an inch of its life), she wrote in crisp capital letters, 'How to fix things with Finn'. She underlined his name three times and drew a small heart next to it. By the time it was three, she had came up with ten solutions.

1. Apologize!

2. Tell him that I love him.

3. Thank him for defending my honor

4. Bake I'm Sorry cookies. Chocolate because that's his favorite.

5. Sing him a song everyday that expresses my undying affection.

6. Find him a medical expert.

7. Get second opinions! (Research. Google it)

8. Kiss him until he accepts my apology.

9. Tell him how much I miss him.

10. Cry in front of him until he accepts my apology.

Satisfied, she signed the bottom of the page Rachel Barbara Berry and tacked a gold star next to her name. Taking down the old goal she had set in front of her elliptical trainer (Nationals in huge block letters with gold stars surrounding the word), she tacked up the new list she just finished. Smiling in satisfaction, she went back to bed.

She woke up at six and made sure she wore the prettiest dress she owned. This was the day they were going to make up, and come hell or high water, he was going to see that she still loves him. She reached school grounds by seven thirty and waited in anticipation by his locker. She had wanted to bake him cookies, but she didn't have the time. She made a note to have that done tomorrow. However, by the time the first bell rang, he still hasn't appeared. Rachel frowned dejectedly as she made her way to class.

"Kurt!" she yelled as she spotted the boy walking in front of her. He turned and raised an eyebrow when he saw her.

"Yes Miss Diva?"

"Where's Finn?"

"He's not coming. He's at home resting." At home? Being at home meant that it was bad!

"Is he okay?" she asked.

"You didn't seem to care all that much yesterday," Kurt said haughtily, a hand on his hips. She was struggling not to choke the boy in front of her. He was wasting her time!

"Kurt!" she hissed.

"Fine. I didn't see him yesterday. He was in his room. He sounded like he was about to die though. He was croaking and moaning all night." She felt her heart constrict. She was already ten minutes late for her first class and Kurt was already moving along. Rachel made up her mind.

"Wait! Give me your keys."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Give me the keys to your house!" He looked at her like she was insane.

"And why in the world would I do that?" She had to think on her feet.

"If you let me borrow your keys you can take my next solo." He rolled his eyes and continued walking "Okay my next two! Three!" She could see him stop abruptly. He turned around, a gleeful look on his face.

"How do I know you won't go back on your word?" she gasped, insulted.

"I am a very honorable person Kurt Hummel! I would never do that," she declared.

"Fair enough. Let's shake on it." They shook their hands, his key in the palm of his.

"Thanks Kurt!" she said as she turned and made a beeline for the exit.

"Just don't do anything unholy in my household!" she heard him holler as she broke into a run.

Rachel barely remembered the drive to the Hummel's. All she knew was that she found herself pulling up at the driveway. There were no other cars around and she sighed in relief. She didn't want to be caught playing hooky. Stepping out of her car, her hands played nervously with the key in the pocket of her dress. She had been in such a hurry to get there and now that she was there, Rachel found that she was nervous and didn't really know what to do. Taking a deep breath, she inserted the key into its lock and opened the door.

"Hello?" she called as she stepped into the house. She didn't want to give anyone a heart attack. When there was no answer, she closed the door and walked slowly up the stairs towards his room. She reached his door and stopped. Placing her ear against the door, she tried to listen in. Silence greeted her. Taking another deep breath, she placed her hand on the doorknob and pushed the door open gently.

Finn was lying on his bed, one hand over his eye, snoring gently. His blanket was pooled at his feet, half of it on the floor and it looked like he had kicked it away in his sleep. She came closer and saw that his thin shirt was sticking to his body with sweat and he was shivering. Rachel resisted the urge to cry once again. She sat on the floor next to his head and she could see the bruise on his jaw that he received because of her. The black and blue of the bruise was already turning into a slight yellowish shade but she knew it must still hurt. Gently, she held up a hand to touch it. His body jumped at the touch and his eyes flew open. She found herself staring into them, noting the glazed expression he wore.

"Ra- Rachel?" he croaked, his voice hoarse.

"Yeah, it's me." she whispered, gently caressing the side of his face. She missed touching him _so _much.

"Are you real or am I dreaming again?" he asked, his face contorted into confusion. Her face broke into a wide smile. He had been dreaming of her?

"I'm real," she assured him.

"Good," he mumbled. His eyes were drooping again and she knew he was about to fall back to sleep. She made a move to pull back her hand but he held it suddenly.

"Don't go anywhere. Stay here with me." He was mumbling and she wasn't sure if he really meant them or if he was just being delusional. Either way it didn't matter to her.

"Okay."

Rachel let her hand stay on his chest where he had held them gently until she was sure he was asleep. Pulling her hand away slowly, she stood up and observed the room. All of his medicine were on his desk, and there was a lot of it. She examined them and breathed a sigh of relief to find only decongestants, cough syrup and a box of Tylenol. So he wasn't dying after all. Glancing at the dirty bowl and half-empty glass of water next to it, she decided to make herself useful. After washing the dishes, she walked over to the stove to see a pot of chicken soup all ready to be eaten. She made a mental note to reheat it in a few hours for him.

The next two hours she spent on the beanbag she had dragged next to his bed, studying for her History test the next day. Occasionally she would put a hand to his forehead to check his temperature. It wasn't as bad as she had thought. Still, to be safe she had made a compressor out of the kitchen towel and changed the water every fifteen minutes. Rachel felt a little embarrassed at the thought of her reaction yesterady in front of her parents. Whatever it was that Finn had, it was obviously not as incurable as she had thought (She made another mental note to revise her list). Maybe skipping school and bribing Kurt for his key had been a slight overreaction.

But it hardly mattered anymore. Finn still looked a little pathetic, with his bruised face and his shivering body, and she found she didn't really care that she had missed school and Glee practice for this. If she had to be honest, she was surprised that she didn't run screaming out the door when she realized he had a bad case of the flu. Usually she hated being around sick people, afraid that they were going to infect her and her voice would be shot to hell. It was funny, she thought drowsily before she fell asleep, that Finn having a sore throat didn't seem to scare her at all.

She was startled by a rustling sound and opened her eyes to find him staring at her from his bed, a dopy smile on his face. He was siting cross legged, his back leaning against the wall.

"Hey," he greeted her softly, his voice still sounding raw.

"Hey," she smiled. She was up in a flash, placing a hand against his forehead to feel his temperature. There was barely any heat. She smiled proudly to herself, having been successful at her attempt to cool him down. "How are you feeling? Are you okay? Why are you sitting up? Finn, you should be lying-"

"Rach, babe! I'm fine," he cut in, laughing hoarsely. He caught her hand and pulled her onto the bed. She sat next to him gingerly, their hands still firmly clasped together. "How did you get in here? Were you hiding under my bed?" she slapped his arm and rolled her eyes. He laughed.

"Shut up. I came because I was worried and this is how you thank me?"

"Baby you know I love you for it," he answered, grinning. "Seriously though, how did you get in? Is mom home? I told her to go to work." He frowned at the last sentence."No your mother isn't here. Kurt gave me his key. I know, I know," she answered at the questioning look on his face. "I kind of maybe bribed him, a little?" Finn was raising his eyebrow in amusement.

"With what?"

"A solo. Or three," she answered grumpily.

"Rachel Berry giving up her chance in the spotlight for me. I'm flattered."

"Three chances, I'll have you know."

"Oh sorry. Three. And she even skipped school to do it!"

"Get over yourself," she grumbled. "You're not that special."

"Yeah, I am," he replied softly, a small smile quirking his lips. She turned to look at him, a blush making its way to her face.

"Okay, yes you are." He felt her squeezing her hand affectionately and thought she could die of happiness right then. Then she remembered why she came in the first place.

"Finn," she began seriously. "About what happened, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry." He was looking at her then, his expression turned guarded. "You were defending my honor and I shouldn't have been mad at you for that. I appreciated it." she said in a small voice. She heard him sigh.

"Rachel-"

"I'm sorry that I said I didn't need you to defend me."

"You don't."

"Well maybe not, but I want you to. Really, I do," she insisted at the doubtful look on his face. "It's nice to have someone who loves you enough to do it."

"You don't have to do everything on your own, you know."

"I know that. I'm just not used to having someone around wanting to help me." she leaned her head on his shoulder, ignoring the fact the he was sweaty and wet. She missed his smell.

"Well I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to call you a slut."

"I know."

"I don't even hate your skirts! You know that right? Rachel?" She said nothing, her eyes firmly staring out the window. "Hey look at me." She did. His face was serious.

"The way I dress is part of who I am, Finn," she said.

"I know that."

"No, you don't. Look, I know I overreacted but I thought- I thought you wanted me to change. And I know it's just a skirt, it's no big deal. But I don't want to change Finn. I don't want to ever change for any one of them. Even if it makes things easier. I've never done that and I never will."

"Rach I know. I'm sorry. I love the way you dress. You have no idea how hot you look in your little skirts. I spend my time in class staring at those skirts and thinking about you in those skirts and- anyway," He cleared his throat, embarrassed. "I was just- I didn't realize that the other guys were doing it too. And I hate that! I don't want them looking at you and thinking those things, you know? They have no right to think like that. And then those pictures. God, Rachel did you know the little creep has a folder full of your pictures?" She groaned into his shoulder. Jacob Ben Israel will always be the proverbial thorn in her side. "He doesn't anymore since I pretty much crushed his hard drive with a baseball bat but still."

"You used a baseball bat to threaten him?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

"The night after we had the stupid fight." He was mumbling. She smiled. She thought he was ignoring her but instead he had been physically intimidating Jacob Ben Israel. For her. Rachel knew that as a pacifist she should not be condoning his acts of violence on her behalf, but Jacob Ben Israel was the exception to that rule.

"When I get better, I'm gonna make sure I get every last one of your pictures from those assholes Rach. I promise," he said darkly. "You should be able to wear whatever the hell you want without those fuckers leering at you."

"Finn."

"Huh?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"You don't have to do that for me."

"I'm not doing it for you babe. The thought of any one of them having your picture is enough to make me Hulk out. I'm doing this for my own piece of mind."

"Oh. Well then, good luck."

"Thanks. Wait, Rachel you shouldn't be here!"

"Why not?" she asked, frowning. He had pushed her away from him and he was already standing up.

"I'm sick!"

"I know!"

"I'm going to give you my flu! You can't get sick! What if you catch my cold? What if you get a sore throat? I know how important your voice is to you." He was looing at her guiltily, as if he was the one who made her come over. The grin she wore threatened to split her face into.

"I don't care."

"What?" he asked, mid-pace, looking at her.

"I don't care. It's just a stupid flu. It's not like I won't be able to sing again if I get it." His mouth was hanging open and she laughed at his confounded look.

"Okay who are you and what have you done with my Rachel Berry?"

"_Finn_!" He was smirking at her as he pulled her up and wrapped an arm around her waist.

"You're making good progress Berry," he whispered in her ear, the heat from his voice making her shiver.

"What progress Hudson?"

"Social progress."

"Really?" she squealed. He grinned and leaned down to kiss her. Rachel frowned. "You're not kissing me when you're sick," she informed him primly, putting up a hand to block his face. He groaned into her palm.

"I knew it was too good to last. Ow!" She slapped his arm, laughing. Burying her face into his chest, she gave him a real hug, reveling in the way his body enveloped hers completely.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're not dying."

"Uh. Yeah. Me too, Rach."

xXx

"I have something for you," Rachel's voice filled his ear. He was wearing his headphones because it was midnight and he didn't want his mom to catch him and his girlfriend on the webcam.

"What is it?" he asked, amused by the bright smile on her face. She was positively beaming.

"Check your email. I have to go. I need to wake up-"

"At six tomorrow to run on you elliptical machine so you'll have a good and energized day ahead. Yeah, yeah I know," he finished, amused. She grinned and blew him a kiss.

"Goodnight Finn, I love you."

"'Night Rach. Love you too." She logged off and he found himself staring at an empty screen. Finn logged into his email and downloaded the attachment Rachel had sent. It was a picture. He stared at it stupidly for a moment, his mouth hanging open, before his expression changed into a huge grin. Rachel Berry was in her underwear.


	4. Playground confidential

When he was seven, Finn Hudson got into his first playground fight. It wasn't his fault. _Really_. Some bigger kids were teasing the little girl that always wore her hair in pigtails. Finn didn't now her name, but he knew her voice (Her rendition for Catch a Falling Star at the school's talent show had blown away his seven-year-old mind.). He could see the girl was in tears. These were the big boys. They were two years older and twice the size of the average second grader. None of the kids wanted to interfere, prefering to sit quietly and pretend nothing was happening. Still, he had found himself shuffling his feet closer to the scene. They had her cornered near the wall of the school building and she had her hands on her hips. Although there were tears, her eyes were flashing.

"You boys are big bullies and I'm telling on you!" He winced, wondering how she didn't know that telling on the bigger kids never get you anything but more trouble. The biggest boy there was Karofsky and he new the kid liked to step on a cat's tail for fun.

"Oooh I'm sooo scared! Who're you gonna tell? Your daddies? Are they gonna give me their gay cooties?" Finn didn't now what gay cooties were, but they must be bad because the girl gasped dramatically.

"They do not have cooties and you're_ stupid_!" she yelled. The boys laughed and tightened their circle around her. He could barely see her over their bodies but he thought she probably didn't realize that she couldn't just leave anymore.

"You have two dads? Cool!" Finn turned around, trying to locate the source of that voice before he realized that everyone was staring at him. The girl was looking at him, her brown eyes huge. He felt warm all over.

"Well, look what we got here. Finn Hudson. My old man says your mom works the night shift." Dave Karofsky was winking. Finn had no idea what he was talking about, and he didn't think that Dave Karofsky knew what he was talking about. But that didn't matter. He knew Dave wasn't being nice.

"I don't even have one dad," he continued, looking straight at the girl, ignoring Dave Karofsky and his two friends. "It must be really awesome to have _two_ dads." She smiled at him, and he thought she was really pretty. He could see her stand a bit straighter, and he was glad for about five seconds before he saw stars and found himself on his back, his face inches away from the foot of the see-saw. He heard the girl shrieking. Even when she screamed, it sounded like music. He looked up to see Dave Karofsky smirking.

"Your mom must suck so bad for you to want two faggy parents."

"Shut up Karofsky," he snarled because nobody gets to say his mom sucks. _Nobody._

"Yeah? _Make_ me." Finn felt the sand underneath his fingers. Grabbing a handful, he threw it in Dave Karofsky's face. For such a big bully, Dave Karofsky sure screamed like a girl. It was pandemonium after that. He knew he punched one of Dave Karofsky's friends but he didn't know who, and he didn't know where. But they were ganging up on him, and although the girl had bit one of the boys' arm, he'd just yelped and pushed her away.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, he heard an ear-piercing shriek coming from his right. Finn turned his face to see the new boy running towards them with a huge stick in his hands.

"Feel the wrath of the Puckerman doofuses!" the boy yelled with a manic gleam in his eyes that somehow managed to alarm the elder boys, but not by much. The new boy managed to whack Dave Karofsky in the stomach before the smaller of the two goons grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. Dave Karofsky was groaning on the floor, doubled over in pain. Out of practically nowhere, the girl in the pig-tail appeared and stomped on his feet.

"My dads don't condone violence but you are a neanderthal and it is always polite to abide by other people's customs," she told the groaning boy primly. Finn had no idea what she just said or what nendatal was, but it was _awesome_ to watch. This was happening while the smaller goon held the new boy by the collar and the larger one was trying to pull his fist back for a punch while Finn had his arms around the boy's body to hold him back. A loud whistle caused everything to come to a screeching halt.

"Stop this madness at once!" It was miss Pemberley and her voice was like thunder which surprised Finn, because she always seemed so nice. He turned around to see his class teacher looking at them with murder in her eyes. Mister Fenton was behind her. Finn was scared of Mister Fenton. He taught the third graders. He didn't seem to like kids very much. And right then he was looking at Dave Karofsky and his friends like he would love nothing more than to beat them up.

"You three!," he barked. "Come with me!" The older boys had meekly stood up to follow him.

"Finn Hudson! Noah Puckerman! Rachel Berry! Tell me what happened. The rest of you, inside!" The other kids ran into their classes while Finn stood, staring at his shoes. He looked up to see the new kid roll his eyes.

"It's Puck not Noah," he said, making a face.

They got into a lot of trouble. By trouble he meant that the school called his mom and he had to go to the school nurse. And medicine _hurt_! But the nurse said that it served him right so he didn't say anything. But Puck screamed like a girl, which Finn thought was funny.

"Thanks man," he said after the nurse was gone. Puck shrugged and said nothing. "Why'd you help me?"

"Moms are awesome," was all he said. Well, there was no arguing with _that_, was there?

When his mom came, she had looked like she just ran a marathon and her hair wasn't in the bun she wore this morning. She took one look at him and sighed.

"What am I going to do with you Finn?" she had asked, exasperated. Finn felt the familiar guilt he feels whenever he gets his mother into trouble. But the girl, her name was Rachel Berry, had stood up from the corner where she was sitting and told his mother that Finn was a hero and had bravely defended her honour. He didn't know what she was talking about, but it made his mom smile and he got ice cream afterwards, which was just plain awesome. He figured that fights aren't so bad if you get to have ice cream afterwards. And Puck was _awesome_!


	5. The nonviable option

In all honesty, she was in too much shock to even respond in the beginning. She was prepared for it to be another thing on her social schedule. Another slushie facial to add to the countless ones she has received before. So when he stopped in front of her with that innocent look on his face, handing her the ice cold cup that contained her recurring nightmare along with the straw he stuck behind his ear, she dumbly accepted his offer. He proceeded to go on about her love for grape-flavored slushies because she licked her lips once when he threw it in her face. That was when she realized this was actually happening. Noah Puckerman was talking to her, and it wasn't to cruelly remark on her birthright or the unfortunate circumstance that was her face. Vaguely she had wondered if the comment was his attempt in getting into her good graces. She refrained from mentioning to him that even walking past a slushie machine caused a shiver to run down her spine ever since it became his favorite form of torture device and she became his number one target (He didn't realize she had surreptitiously thrown the drink into the trash can near the door.).

By the time he finished talking, and she recovered from her shock, the bell signifying the end of the school day had rung and he was taking the handle of her bag, pulling it along as he fell in step with her (The first thing that popped in her head was of the other boy, doing the exact same thing once.). She had followed him cautiously as he kept walking and talking, looking covertly around her for any signs of attack. Once they reached her car, he asked for her help with Glee. Maybe she should have asked him point-blank how pure his motives were, but it might hurt too much to know. Instead, she had smiled at him shyly, inviting him over to her house because this was the first boy that has ever asked for her help in anything and she thought it just might be the last (The other boy didn't count. Not when she was the one continuously throwing herself in his path.).

It was a surreal concept having a boy in her room and having the boy be Noah Puckerman. It was awkward and weird, completely uncomfortable because she didn't know what was the suitable behavior when one was within the vicinity of the opposite sex (It was always natural with the other boy. She never had to try too hard to feel comfortable in his presence.). She suggested they sing and he offered to accompany her instead with his guitar. She was surprised to find that he was actually good. She had spent the short amount of her high school career assuming he was a soulless bully. Somehow she didn't think a soulless person could have the ability to be in any way musical.

She just wanted to know what it felt like to be wanted. By people other than your parents, who were forced to love you unconditionally. When he asked her if she wanted to make out, she said okay because for once she thought she might be grasping the concept of 'normal American teenage girl'. It felt different. He held her confidently, like he knew exactly what he was doing. She figured he probably did, if the rumors circulating the halls of McKinley were true. He moved her around pruposefully on her bed, turning them over so she straddled him. She felt bold. It was fun.

It was definitely not like it was with the other boy who had placed her hand on his heart so she could feel its erratic beats. The other boy was clumsy, and held her with shaking hands and whose kisses were soft and made her see stars behind her eyes. She could feel his hands everywhere, groping her body like he couldn't get enough of her, unlike the other boy who had pulled back and ran like he couldn't get away from her fast enough. The other boy was all she could think about and when she pulled away only to see the other boy's face, she knew it was time to stop. He looked confused. She didn't think telling him the truth would go down well, so she made up some lie about needing a true leading man (The truth was, she only wanted the hot male lead.).

The next day at Glee he had truly surprised her again when he serenaded her with a song. She didn't think he was even listening to her. She had never been serenaded before, and Noah Puckerman was smiling at her like she was the only girl in the room. He sang very well she was surprised to know, and she thought maybe he really wasn't as bad as she made him out to be in her mind. Somebody who could sing that well couldn't possibly be the incarnate of evil. His performance was a success judging by the way everyone was singing along, including her. In the back of her mind, she was acutely aware of the other boy sitting right behind her. She pushed away the hope that the other boy might see this and maybe feel... _something_. When he was done, she gave him the brightest smile that she could muster. He sat next to her for the rest of practice and she could feel the heat of his body seeping into hers (She was not thinking of the other boy. Not at all.).

They became official and she realized that Noah was not a horrible person. Not really. Slightly disturbed, maybe; in need of counseling, undoubtedly. But Noah was sweet and was really nice when he wanted to be. But it was awkward, being together. They had nothing in common, other than their mutual affinity for kissing. He talks to her about Super Mario Brothers and WWF (That had confused her immensely at first. What did the World Wildlife Foundation and wrestling have in common?), and she goes on and on about West Side Story and Funny Girl and all the Tony winners she admires. Neither one was listening to the other and she wondered if maybe that was a sign that the relationship wasn't working.

The football coach made the jocks choose between football and Glee. Noah Puckerman received his first slushie facial. He had pulled her along with him into the boys room, glaring at anyone who dared to look his way. She felt sorry for him, knowing how hard it must be to fall so far down the social ladder (She could only imagine, of course. She has been living in the sub-basement her whole life.). She helps him clean up because he was shaking with rage and she didn't know what else to do. He held her hands in his when he pretty much told her they were breaking up. He even looked sorry about it and that made her smile. She understood the way things worked perfectly. She would be lying if she said she didn't see it coming. She had kissed his forehead, hoping that would tell him that there really were no hard feelings.

The next day, every Glee member who wasn't on the football team was waiting impatiently for the clock to strike three thirty and seal the fate of the club. She smiled, touched to see the two football players she didn't know all that well walking into the choir room, proud smiles stretching across their faces. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute waiting for the person she hoped to see the most. Noah Puckerman walked in with his hands in his pocket and an almost shy smile on his lips. She didn't even realize she had stepped forward until she was directly in front of him. She knew she was beaming. He looked pretty pleased with himself too. She gave him the biggest hug she could muster because she was so immensely proud of him. The rest of the club took turns to welcome him and that's when she knew. She saw the covert look he gave the blonde cheerleader who has been the bane of her existence ever since forever. It figured that two lonely and heartbroken souls would come together (The clock struck the magical hour and the other boy didn't show. She refused to be disapointed.).

The next day, the other boy came up to Kurt when she was standing next to him, a slushie in his hand. She had never seen him with a slushie before. It looked glaringly out of place in his grip. The other boy looked upset, but that didn't change the fact that he made a choice. And it wasn't them (Wasn't her). She was angry, _furious_ that her heart still skipped a beat for this other boy whose only ability was to continuously let her down. Kurt made a choice too. And she could see from the other boy's face, he finally understood what it meant to be a real friend. As she led Kurt into the girls room, she couldn't help the disapoinment that was like a boulder crushing her chest. He was so much _better_ than this. She knows it as surely as she knows her heart.

She found him on the bleachers, staring glumly at the football team on the field. Slowly, she made her way up and sat behind him. It was the right thing to do. This boy was not a viable option. Not when all she could see was _him, him, __**him**_. And all she could think about was how he was not like _him, him, __**him**_. And likewise, she could never be _**her**_. In the end, she broke it off because it was really unfair and ridiculous to be settling for someone who was so not what the other wanted. She wants more than that. She deserves more than that. And so does he. Even if he hated her for it and spewed out bitter words about things she already knew all too well. They were both hopeless. She stared out into the field and found the other boy looking up into the bleachers, looking up at them. She wondered how they looked like to him. She says she hopes they could still be friends and he says they never were in the first place. She was disapointed that despite how well they knew each other, things were going to go back to the way they were before.

The next day she was standing by her locker when she saw Noah Puckerman at the end of the hall, a slushie in his hand. She waited with bated breath as he came closer and closer. He was almost in front of her and she saw the falter in his step. His face was stoic as he walked past her, sipping the slushie in his hand. She hid the smile that was growing on her face with the folder she was holding. All the boys from the football team were reinstated and the other boy came back. She knew it was all because of him. He bought the whole club grape-flavored slushies and she wondered if the two of them were bestfriends because they shared the same penchant for irony. As she took a sip of her first slushie (the icy feeling giving her a split-second panic attack), she thought she definitely made the right choice.


	6. Adventures in babysitting

"Oh my God," she groaned into her palms, her face in her hands. "This is a disaster,"

"Hey." He pulled her hands away so she would look him in the eye. "At least the worse has happened. Think about it this way. Things can only go up from here, right?" A loud crash from the kitchen startled the both of them as she jumped slightly. They heard the sound of struggling and a young voice screaming, loud and clear.

"Oh you are so dead! I'm telling! Finnnnnn!" Rachel turned to face her boyfriend, whose eyes were about as round as saucers. She raised her eyebrows, tyring to bite back an exhausted scream.

"You do know this is your fault, right?"

xXx

It was a normal night for Rachel Berry. Everything was going on schedule. She had just finished recording a new song for her MySpace which admittedly, was sorely overdue. The last time she had posted anything was slightly less than a month ago. Even the cheerios have stopped posting their insulting comments as a result of the lack of update. She was about to get ready for bed when her cell started ringing. She frowned a little because he was an hour ahead of schedule. He wasn't supposed to call until she was already in bed (She knew it was him because two weeks into the relationship, she suddenly found her phone playing Journey's Faithfully one night when he called. She had always wondered when he managed that.). The frown made its way into a smile however, because if there was one thing she loves more than being on schedule, it was Finn Hudson.

"Well someone's early," she teased, answering her phone.

"Hey Rach!" She held the phone away from her ear. Why was he screaming? Rachel narrowed her eyes. He sounded nervous.

"What's going on?" she asked cautiously. She heard him sigh one the other line.

"Look Rach, don't get mad okay?" She could feel herself getting mad already.

"Oh no. Finn what did you do?" She gasped. "You didn't break the stained-glass couple's bowl I made for you, did you?"

"No," he mumbled. "And we don't talk about that Rach." She rolled her eyes. It was so ridiculous of him to be so embarassed about that gift. Granted it was hot pink with the words Finn+Rachel in purple font all over it, but she made it out of her undying love for him. She would be completely insulted had he not exlplain to her the irrationalities of being a 'dude' ("We just say and do a lot of stupid things that you'll never understand cause you're not a dude. You're like, a lady or whatever, you know?").

"Well then what is it? I need to get ready for bed Finn."

"Itoldmymomwe'dbabysitmyoldneighbor'skidsforheronFriday." He mumbled in a rush and she heard him take in a lung-full of air when he was done.

"You told who we'd what?" she asked, confused.

"My mom. I told my mom we'd- um. Babysit?"

"Who?"

"My old neighbor's kids. You know, the ones before we moved in with Burt? This Friday."

"Finn!"

"I know, I know. Friday's date night. I'm sorry baby. I know how much you like your schedules. But I just felt so bad for my mom. She really wanted to go see this chick movie with Megan, you know? Something about recapturing her youth or whatever. And I kind of told her I would cause Megan can't go otherwise. Her husband's got poker night." She sighed. She holds absolutely nothing against his mother, but she hates it when the woman guilt-trips him into things on date night!

"Isn't there anyone else?" It was not about ruining date night, per se. She just doesn't know what she was supposed to do with children. She might kill them.

"Not really. Babe it's cool if you don't want to. I could do it alone. I think." She could picture the uncertain frown that was surely plastered across his face at that moment.

"It's not that. I guess I don't mind it so much. At least we'll still be together right?"

"Totally," he answered enthusiastically.

"It's just," she hesitated.

"What is it?"

"What do you do with children, exactly?"

"Oh don't worry. I've looked after them a bunch of times. I'll teach you all you need to know." Well, if he was confident he could, then she had nothing to worry about.

"Really? Then I would love to babysit with you Finn Hudson, if you're a good teacher."

"Oh I've taught you a thing or two," he answered, his voice taking on a more playful tone. "You have certainly approved of my teaching skills." She knew her face was flaming to the roots of her hair. She still wasn't used to this type of flirting from him. Or at all. She giggled and silently berated herself.

"So it's a date?"

"Pick me up at seven," he joked.

"If that is all I need to start grooming for bed now,"

"Sure thing babe. I'll leave you to it." She frowned.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"You will be calling me again in an hour, right?"

"Well, duh."

"Okay."

On Thursday she made her way to his locker with a spring in her step as she held a pink bedazzled folder confidently in her hand. She found him already waiting for her, his face contorted in confusion as he leaned against his locker.

"What are you thinking of there?" He smiled when he saw her and straigthtened his posture. She stood on her tiptoes, waiting for him to lean down and meet her halfway. The annoying thing about having a boyfriend who was so much taller than you is the fact that you are always the one waiting for the kiss. The only way she could ever initiate one is by jumping into his arms unexpectedly. Bearing in mind their location, Rachel hardly thought that was appropriate.

"Just something Sharp said in Bio." He grinned as he pulled back. Grabbing her hand, they headed towards the choir room.

"What is it?"

"She was talking about a plant's reposession system-"

"You mean reproduction?"

"Yeah. And I don't get it. There's a girl plant and a boy plant? They all kinda look the same to me."

"Do you want to come over later? I could explain it to you."

"Hell yeah! You still got those cookies you baked yesterday? The double chocolate chip ones with the pink icing?"

"Yes. Oh no! I forgot to pack you some this morning."

"That's okay. I'm coming over anyway. What's that?" he asked, pointing to the folder in her hands. They reached the choir room and were the firsts to arrive, as usual. Rachel squealed.

"Oh I completely forgot! Look what I found from my research last night!" She handed him a pink piece of paper as they sat.

"Child Development? What is this?"

"Oh I was just nervous about our upcoming activity tomorrow night."

"So you googled kids? Rach it's babysitting. I don't think you need reseacrh. Where did you find all this anyway?"

"You know how I feel about foreign territories. I stayed up last night to see whether I could find anything of assistance. Google is a very helpful tool."

"How did you know what to look for?"

"Oh you'd be surprised at the things you can find on the world wide web. You told me they were eight, six and three? All I had to do was google eight year old behavior and voila! Instant information. Are you laughing at me?"

"You're crazy, Berry."

"I prefer the term well-prepared, thank you."

"If by well-prepared you mean nutty."

"What?"

"Nothing. I said those cookies yesterday were really nutty."

It was approximately seven p.m. on a Friday when she rang the doorbell, her palms sweaty and her stomach doing sommersaults. She heard a thud and a loud yell of pain before the door opened to show him smiling brightly, a hand rubbing his knee.

"Hey Rach!"

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Just tripped over the rug. Mom's getting ready. We're taking her car over to Megan's. That okay?"

"It's fine." He frowned when he saw her smile.

"Are you okay? You're smiling kinda funny."

"I'm really nervous," she whispered. Finn laughed as he enveloped her into a tight hug.

"It's gonna be fine Rach. These are kids. Not flash-eating zombies trying to rule the world." Rachel buried her face into his chest, trying to calm her nerves.

"Finn honey, give the girl some room for air. You're squishing the life out of her." She looked behind him to fine Carole smiling at her as she walked down the stairs.

"Nah, she loves it." Rachel was blushing. She still wasn't used to his mother. Most of the adults she meets find her grating and generally, Rachel doesn't care. But Finn's mom was different. Rachel wanted the woman to like her.

"Hi Mrs Hudson. You look great."

"It's Carole sweety and thank you very much. I don't always get to dress up. You know it would be nice if my son would acknowledge me when I'm being all fancy but he never notices these things."

"You know I think you're beautiful mom. Besides, you have Kurt for that now."

"Where is he?" Rachel asked, as they waited for Carole to find her keys. Finn shrugged.

"Dunno. Father-son bonding time with his dad."

"They do that?"

"Yeah, once a week."

"Found my keys! Let's go." They walked out the door and she waited as he locked it. Carole was already in the car and she heard the engine revving. She waited for him to turn around and tried to flash him a confident smile. He grinned at her affectionately as he ruffled her hair.

"Babe you need to chill. It's going to be fine. Your hands are freezing," he commented as they walked towards the vehicle. She smiled as he opened the back door for her.

"Honey I called Megan," Carole said as they backed out of the driveway. "She said the kids already had dinner. All you need to do is entertain them for an hour and make sure they're in bed by ten. We'll be home by eleven. Think you can handle it?"

"No problem."

"Those kids love him," Carole said to her through the rearview mirror. Rachel smiled.

"I'm sure they do. Finn is very lovable." She felt like kicking herself in the head. _Finn is very lovable_? What kind of a statement was that?

Rachel spent the rest of the car ride in silence, observing the easy banter between Finn and his mother, occasionally smiling as Carole winked at her from the rearview mirror after making a joke. To say she felt awkward was an understatement. It was incredibly frustrating being this nervous in front of his mother. Carole would have thought she was a deaf mute if it wasn't for the random sentences she forced out. It was ironic how she was never nervous and always loud in front of a large crowd, but this small, friendly woman made her uncharacteristically quiet.

He took her hand as she got out of the car, his thumb continuously brushing over her knuckles in an effort to comfort her. She appreciated it. She definitely needed it. Three feet away from the house and she heard the sound of children yelling and what she thought sounded like a little boy singing the theme song to Barney at the top of his lungs. The feeling of wanting to pass out that she has managed to keep at bay the whole car ride returned in full force. Rachel suppressed an urge to groan. She tightened her hold on his hand. He nudged her so she would look up and smiled encouragingly at her. Carole was ringing the doorbell when Finn leaned to whisper in her ear.

"You're Rachel Berry. You can do this." Dear God, she hoped so. Somebody opened the door and whoever it was was squealing. Carole moved slightly to the left and Rachel could see a little girl in pink polka-dotted pajamas grinning in the doorway.

"Hi!" she said brightly. She turned around and wailed, "Mooommm! Carole's here!" In the background she heard a woman's voice asking them to come in. "C'mon in. Mom's getting ready. Hi Finn!" Rachel was pretty sure there were stars in the girl's eyes. She would know. The young girl turned towards her and scrunched up her nose.

"Who're you?" Rachel was slightly taken aback by her haughty tone, the smile on her face wavering.

"Hey Sam. This is Rachel." Rachel smiled brightly and extended her hand.

"Hi. You must be Samantha." Samantha looked at her hand and rolled her eyes.

"It's Sam. And I don't shake hands with strangers. They might have cooties." With that, she turned around and bounded inside. Rachel was appalled. She turned around to look at her boyfriend, who shrugged his shoulders.

"You told me she was friendly!" she hissed softly, as they walked behind Carole.

"She is! Maybe she just needs to warm up to you or something. I mean I've known her since she was two so she's used to me." she glanced at him doubtfully but said nothing.

The level of screaming that greeted her in the living room almost made her stick her fingers into her ears. The television was on and Barney was dancing in a cowboy hat. A small boy whom she guessed was the three year old was staring at the screen intently, singing along at the top of his lungs. Another boy was running around the room wearing a Superman cape, yelling incoherently. Rachel gasped when he stepped on his cape and tumbled over, his head inches away from the coffee table. But the boy had stood up immediately, resuming his previous activity. She knew there was no way to disguise her look of absolute terror. She had never been in a room where the noise was so deafening, and this included a roomful of applausing crowd. Out of nowhere, there was a shrill whistle causing every movement to halt, except for Barney. Rachel turned to find a woman who looked to be in her early forties walking into the room. She looked like the older version of Samantha, with her blonde hair tied neatly at the nape of her neck and her blue eyes firm.

"Kids! Listen up! Mommy's going to go out with Carole and you're going to stay here with Finn and- what's your name dear?"

"Rachel." It came out as a squeak.

"And Rachel. Now you know I want all of you to be in bed by ten. Sam, make sure you lay out the clothes you want to wear for Tom's party tomorrow. Tonight. Kaleb, sweety, take off that cape and have Finn put it in the washer. There's orange juice all over it. Kyle, come here and give mommy a kiss." She watched in wonder as the three children lined up and hugged their mother one by one. Megan was a miracle worker. They followed their mother as she walked towards the front door. Megan turned around and smiled.

"The two of you are a life-saver. Thank you so much for doing this." All she managed was a terrified smile as Finn waved off Megan's compliment nonchalantly. The five of them stood at the door and watched as Carole and Megan drove away.

"So," Finn began as he closed the door. "What do you guys want to do tonight?" The noise once again reached the maximum level as the three of them began to speak simultaneously, each one louder than the next, trying to make themselves heard. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down! One by one."

"Barney!" Kyle yelled, pointing toward the direction of the living room. Rachel smiled. He was cute. He was a plump little boy, with large expressive blue eyes and sandy blonde hair.

"Barney it is. Rach can you take him?"

"Me? Alone?"

"Yeah, Please?"

"Okay." Finn smiled encouragingly at her as she walked towards the little boy and took his hand. The noise resumed as Samantha and her brother argued while Finn tried to calm them down. The fifteen second walk to the living room was an awkward one. Was she supposed to say something? It was almost eight thirty and she was thankful they only had another hour and a half before the kids were in bed. She sat on the floor next to the little boy as he stared intently at the screen in front of him. Rachel scrunched up her nose in distaste. She never liked Barney. When she was a child, the purple dinosaur had once terrorized her dream and she hated him ever since. The Wiggles were much better entertainers in her opinion.

"Gwen. Gwen!" It took her a second to realize Kyle was addressing her. She smiled brightly at the little boy.

"My name is Rachel," she said.

"Gwen."

"Ra-chel"

"Gwen!"

"Okay then." Kyle smiled brightly up at her and she felt her heart expanding at his toothless grin. He pointed to the screen.

"You want something sweety?"

"Song."

"Yes they are singing." Rachel frowned. She thought three year olds could talk. Kyle stood up suddenly, excited.

"Gwen song!" This would be so much easier if he could talk.

"The song? You like the song Kyle?" Kyle was shaking his head, his eyes large as he pointed at her.

"You song!" he ordered.

"You want me to sing?" He nodded his head happily. Rachel smiled in relief. That she could do. Softly, she sang along to I love you, startled when the little boy hugged and kissed her noisily when she sang 'with a great big hug and a kiss from me to you'. She had never really understood a grown woman's fixation with little children before. She understood then. As she crooned the last notes of the song with Kyle sitting in her lap, she heard a yell and the sound of footsteps. Kaleb ran into the room, his cape still around his neck.

"Autobots, attack!" he screamed as he ran towards the couch and climbed onto it. "Megatron you will surrender! I am Optimus!" Rachel watched with wide eyes as Kaleb climbed onto the head of the couch and jumped over. In her lap, Kyle watched, disinterested. She started to panic when there was no movement and stood up with the three year old in her arms. She walked over to the back of the couch to find the boy hunched over on the ground in prostration. He wasn't moving. Finn chose that moment to walk in.

"Don't worry," he said, catching the panicked look on her face. "He's just transforming."

"What?" she asked in confusion. Kyle was playing with her hair, and she winced as he pulled a handful of it a little too strongly.

"Transforming. You know? Transformers?" She stared at him blankly.

"That robot movie we watched last week?"

"The one with Shia Lebeouf?"

"That's the one." Kaleb chose that moment to jump up and screamed in her face.

"Starscream! I have been waiting for you! Decepticons will rise again!" He poked a finger hard into her elbow and turned around swiftly to run out of the room. She turned to look at Finn, who was staring at her in amusement.

"Does he have ADD?" she asked in a whisper. He snorted.

"No. You've been reading too much."

"Yeah, well nothing I read said anything about this," she grumbled. Her arms were starting to hurt and she gently placed Kyle on the couch next to her boyfriend. Barney was already over and the screen was blue. The little boy drowsily inched closer to Finn's side and buried his face in his elbow. She grinned. The boy knew all the comfortable places.

"Finn! I chose my outfit! Wanna see?" Samantha asked eagerly as she entered the room. She stopped short when she saw Rachel standing next to the couch. In the background, Kaleb was still yelling incoherently.

"Maybe later, Sam."

"Kay," she answered. Rachel noticed she wasn't smiling anymore. In fact she was glaring. At Rachel. She sat down on the armchair next to the couch, staring at the television sullenly.

"Why is there nothing on?"

"The show your brother was watching has ended," Rachel answered, hoping she sounded friendly.

"You talk funny. You sound like a grandma."

"_Sam._"

"What? She does?" the little girl said defensively at Finn's warning look. Rachel could feel herself starting to frown. This girl was as bad as a cheerio. "Is she like, your girlfriend or something?" Finn was blushing. Rachel would have thought it was sweet if she wasn't too busy frowning at the way Samantha said the word like it was bad cheese.

"Yep. She's cute, right?"

"Quinn was cuter," was her dark answer. Rachel felt her face flaming in anger. What was this little brat's issue? Finn just laughed, so Rachel glared at _him_. "Whatever. I'm going to watch Aladdin." Samantha kneeled in front of the cabinet below the television to look for the DVD. Rachel sat down next to Finn in a huff. Slowly lifting his hand so he won't wake the sleeping Kyle, Finn rested his arm along the back of the couch, weaving his fingers through her hair. She realized suddenly that it was quiet.

"Should I check up on Kaleb? He hasn't made a sound in almost five minutes."

"Nah. The little squirt's fine. He's probably in the kitchen stealing cookies."

"_Finn_! He's not supposed to be eating."

"Chill Rach. There's no harm in an extra cookie or two after dinner. Kid's a growing boy." She rolled her eyes.

"Kalebbbbb!" Samantha screamed suddenly. Rachel thought that if she ever wanted to, the child could be an impressive singer with that set of lungs. "Where'd you put my Aladdin DVD? Kalebbbb!" Kaleb walked into the living room sourly, cookie crumbs leaving telltale marks on his face.

"I don't know where your stupid DVD is. Why would I know where you put _Aladdin_?" he asked, making a face.

"Because you always steal my stuff!"

"I do not! Why would I want your stupid girl things?"

"Yes you do!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too times infinity!"

"Do no times infinity times forever!"It was like watching a tennis match. Her head was constantly moving from one kid to another. It was loud and giving her a migraine. It was also oddly compelling.

"Okay, okay!" Finn yelled finally. Rachel was grateful. She had no idea where her ability for speech went, but she didn't think it was coming back anytime soon. Kyle was already stirring, his eyes blinking sleepily. It dawned on her that she probably should have taken him to bed when he was sleeping, but it was too late now. He was awake. "Look, it's almost nine and you won't even get to finish the movie anyway."

"But I want to listen to A Whole New World!" Samantha whined. Kaleb rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue at his sister. Finn grinned.

"You want to listen to the song?"

"Yeah."

"Rachel can sing it for you."

"What?" Both Rachel and Samantha stared incredulously at him.

"Yeah. She's a good singer, you know."

"Better than princess Jasmine?" Kaleb asked. Rachel looked at him, surprised. She didn't think he would know that. Clearly, he was lying when he said Aladdin was a stupid girl thing because excitement was lighting up his face.

"Way better. Rachel's voice totally trumps Princess Jasmine's. She's the best singer ever." She blushed at the compliment, looking up at Finn adoringly. He thought she was the best singer ever? The Finn-induced high was short-lived.

"Yeah right," Samantha snorted. "You're just saying that because you want to get in her pants." Rachel gasped dramatically. Although she didn't think it was dramatic this time because even Finn raised his eyebrows. _You are eight! _

"Hey, where'd you learn to speak like that?" he asked with a frown.

"TV."

"Well stop saying stuff like that, kay? It's not good."

"Whatever." she mumbled, but Rachel thought she was blushing. Suddenly she felt bad for the kid. She knew what it was like trying to impress the boy you had a crush on and trying to control your jealousy at the same time. It often led to embarrassing situations like the one Samantha was obviously experiencing. She wanted to help.

"You know, A Whole New World is one of my favorite songs ever."

"Really? Me too! I mean, it's okay for a girly song." She bit back a smile.

"Totally. You really want to hear me sing it?" she asked. Kaleb nodded his head as he sat on the armrest of the couch next to her. Samantha shrugged and Kyle looked up at her, his eyes wide.

"Gwen song," Kyle mumbled sleepily. She looked at Finn and he was tilting his head towards her, smiling. Rachel felt her confidence growing. Singing was her forte. Disney songs had been included in her repertoire since she was five years old. Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth and began to sing. She could feel the room changing. Samantha was looking at her, a reluctant look of awe on her face. Kaleb was also staring, his eyes caught somewhere between starstruck and wonder. Finn was looking at the children in amusement before turning back towards her, the pride evident in his eyes. Rachel struggled to keep herself in character and not break into the grin that was teasing her face. At her last note, Finn stood up enthusiastically to give her a standing ovation, hollering her name like she was a footballer who just scored a touchdown. Giggling, she gave a mock curtsey.

"Thank you, thank you. I'll be happy to sign autographs," she joked.

"You really do sound like a princess! Can you do Colors of the wind? I mean, I think that's what the stupid song's called, rght Sam?" Kaleb asked when he saw the surprised look on Rachel's face. Apparently he enjoyed Disney princesses more than he let on.

"You're okay," Samantha muttered begrudgingly, ignoring her brother.

"Why thank you," Rachel answered graciously. Maybe the night wouldn't end in total disaster after all. "Kaleb, are you okay?" she asked in alarm when she noticed the boy suddenly frowning. His face was turning green and before she knew what was happening, he had already thrown up all over her shirt. Rachel shrieked as Finn let out a yell of surprise. They startled Kyle, who was already falling back asleep and he began to cry. Loudly.

"Ewww!" Samantha jumped up from her seat, pinching her nose in disgust.

"I don't feel so good," Kaleb mumbled, holding his stomach. She didn't either. Rachel didn't really know whether she was about to cry or scream in disgust. The smell was making her dizzy.

"Sam bring your brother into the kitchen okay? Get him a glass of water. C'mon buddy. Don't cry. I'm sorry we scared you." Finn had picked up the toddler and was trying to calm him down, while Rachel stared at them blankly. This was not happening. She did not just have a six year old child throw up on her owl-print shirt. It was like an out of body experience, she thought, as she watched her boyfriend manage to get Kyle to stop crying and the two other children walking towards the kitchen, Kaleb looking just fine, if a little ashen. She could only be thankful that she wasn't miss Pillsbury. She could almost ignore the stench by now. Thank God the boy had aimed perfectly at the plastic owl across her chest, so at least it wasn't seeping into her skin. She snapped back into place when Finn called her name.

"Oh my God," she groaned into her palms, her face in her hands. "This is a disaster,"

"Hey." He pulled her hands away so she would look him in the eye. "At least the worse has happened. Think about it this way. Things can only go up from here, right?" A loud crash from the kitchen startled the both of them as she jumped slightly. They heard the sound of struggling and a young voice screaming, loud and clear.

"Oh you are so dead! I'm telling! Finnnnnn!" Rachel turned to face her boyfriend, whose eyes were about as round as saucers. She raised her eyebrows, tyring to bite back an exhausted scream.

"You do know this is your fault, right?" she hissed. He sighed.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. Look, just go to the toilet okay? Ugh take off your shirt. Wait there while I go see what those munchkins did and I'll see you there. Rachel you need to calm down."

"I'm fine. I'm fine." She repeated the words a second time for herself more than him. Blindly, she followed as he led her to the bathroom next to the kitchen. Her ears were ringing but she could still vaguely hear the spat between the siblings in the kitchen. Entering the bathroom, she had stood stupidly in front of the sink for a second or two. It wasn't a big deal. She was just surprised, that was all. Thanking her lucky stars for her lack of a gag reflex, she began to unbutton her blouse, holding her breath and groaning when she was forced to touch the vomit-stained buttons. Gingerly, she took off her shirt and threw it into the sink. She took a hand towel, brought it under the open tap and began to clean herself up, sighing. Babysitting was turning out to be a nightmare. She should have known she would be bad at this. She wasn't good with children even when she was a child herself. What on earth made her think she would be better as an adult?

It took almost fifteen minutes but when she was certain that the smell was gone, she started in on her shirt. It wasn't exactly a new experience, if she thought about it. She had spent many hours in this position, washing a stained shirt under the sink. Sure, this was a little (okay, a lot) grosser than usual, but at least it was easier to clean off than dried egg yolk. She wondered how Kaleb was doing. He probably ate too much. He spent a long time in the kitchen. Rachel let out a gasp as she looked at her watch. It was close to ten. The children were supposed to be in bed by then. She knew they were still downstairs because she could here Samantha screaming at her brother. Giving up on her shirt she sat on the toilet with her head in her hands. She was a failure as a babysitter. Poor Megan was going to come home to screaming children and Carole was probably going to hate her and thought she was an awful choice for her son. Feeling the prickling in the back of her eye, Rachel relented and began to cry. Her quiet sniffles turned into heaving sobs before she realized it. This was her one chance to prove herself to Finn's mother and she pretty much blew it to smithereens. The woman was never going to trust her with anything again.

"Rach?" A knock on the door jolted her from her misery and she wiped at her face furiously.

"In a minute!" She stood in front of the sink and splashed her face with water. Looking in the mirror, Rachel took a deep breath before unlocking the bathroom door. He was standing in the doorway, looking grim. It was then that she realized she was standing in her bra. Rachel felt her face burn as he pushed past her to get in. Closing the door behind them, she turned to face him. Finn was already sitting down where she just vacated, one hand pinching his forehead.

"Oh my God, that was exhausting." he moaned, his eye closed.

"What happened?"

"Kaleb dropped the glass of water. Geez there were pieces of glass everywhere and the floor was all wet. I just finished cleaning it up." _That would explain the wet patches on his jeans_, she thought idly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He frowned and stood up, walking towards her. Placing a hand under her jaw, he pulled gently until she looked up. "Are you crying?"

"No."

"Your eyes are all swollen."

"I'm not crying. Anymore."

"Rachel I am so sorry about that. I swear to you I had no idea he was going to upchuck all over your shirt."

"Of course you didn't. It's fine Finn. It was an accident. I don't even have a gag reflex, so it' not like I felt like throwing up or anything. I was just surprised. That's all." He was looking at her guiltily and she forced herself to smile in assurance.

"Where's your shirt?"

"In the sink." It was like they were both suddenly aware of her lack of clothing because things got awkward really fast. She knew he was trying really hard not to stare at her breasts, but he was doing a really bad job of it. She snorted. Who would have thought they'd end up like this?

"Okay we definitely need to find you something to wear."

"You need to get those monsters to bed first," she answered grumpily. He was grinning like the proverbial cat who got the canary.

"Done." She looked at him dubiously.

"Done?"

"Every last one of 'em." he replied proudly.

"That's impossible. How long was I in here?"

"About half an hour."

"You cleaned up the kitchen and got all three of them to bed in half an hour? What did you do?" He shrugged.

"They like me. I mean Kyle was already asleep so I just had to carry him up to his room, no problem. And well, let's just say I made a deal with Kaleb. Told him I won't tell on him about the cookie party he had in the kitchen if he could make sure he got himself ready and under the covers by ten." Rachel frowned.

"Is he alright? Shouldn't we tell his mother? Maybe he needs to see the doctor." Finn waved a hand dismissively.

"Nah. The kid's fine. It was just one too many oreo. He ate like, a whole boxful."

"Told you we should have checked up on him," she berated, annoyed.

"A little puke's not going to hurt the kid."

"Finn that's disgusting. I'm sure you managed to convince Samantha without a hitch," she said archly. He grinned cheekily.

"Jealous are we?" Rachel scoffed.

"Of an eight year old girl? Hardly. She's completely head over heels in love with you."

"I know. It made tonight so much easier, let me tell you."

"Yeah well, she _hates_ me." He nodded sagely.

"'Course she does. You're competition." She rolled her eyes.

"It would have been nice if you gave me this information beforehand you know. At least I would have known what to expect. I suck at babysitting," she said dejectedly. Finn smiled, putting an arm around her waist.

"You were okay for a first timer. Kyle likes you." She smiled affectionately at the thought of the plump toddler.

"He is adorable. He keeps calling me Gwen though."

"Yeah I wondered about that." It was silent. There was no screaming, no running, no yelling.

"They're really in bed?"

"Yep." Rachel let out a sigh of relief and hugged him tightly.

"Thank God." His chuckled reverberated against her ear. "I'm never having children," she muttered. He was silent and she thought he hadn't heard her before he cleared his throat.

"Never?"

"Nope. I suck with kids."

"Not even one?" She thought about it.

"Well, maybe one. When I'm like, thirty or something acient like that. And after I've made it in Broadway and won a Tony. Maybe then."

"Thirty's okay I guess."

"Okay for what?"

"Okay for starting a family."

"Oh." Did he mean it was okay for starting a family with her? Or just starting a family in general? Rachel thought having a family with Finn probably wasn't so bad.

"You're good with them," she said, her voice muffled against his shirt. She felt his shrug.

"I like kids. When I was younger I always thought it would be awesome to have a brother, you know? Someone to do something with. Mom was always busy, so it was kind of boring being an only child. So when Megan and her husband moved next door, I just pretended like Sam, she was the only one around then, was my sister. I took her everywhere I went for like a month. Puck was really pissed." He chuckled at the memory. She could see him as a boy, excitedly dragging a toddler everywhere he went. She grinned into his chest.

"You would have been a great brother. No wonder she's so in love with you." She felt him kiss the top of her head before he unwound her arms around him.

"Babe we have got to find you something to wear." She looked at him morosely.

"Where? I can hardly borrow Megan's shirt." He frowned for a while before snapping his finger.

"I've got an idea."

"Finn what are you doing?" Her eyes were wide as he began to take off his shirt.

"Finding you something to wear," he said simply, opening the bottom of the shirt and dumping it over her head.

"But then you'll have nothing to wear."

"I got my sweater outside, don't worry about it. Put up your arms. You're so tiny," he muttered. The sleeves reached her knees. Pulling up a sleeve, he began to roll it up patiently until it fell just below her elbow. Rachel felt herself blushing as he moved on to the next one. He was rolling her sleeve intently, unaware of the awkwardness of the situation. She took a deep breath full of air that smelled like Finn. It was oddly comforting.

"There!" He looked very satisfied with himself. His shirt fell below her knees, much longer than the skirt she had on. She had to pull the shirt back so that the neckline wouldn't be too revealing. Rachel looked into the mirror and smiled. It was like wearing a dress. A dress that smelled like Finn. It was a little intoxicating. She turned around and beamed at him before jumping into his arms. Finn staggered a little, caught unaware, but held her firmly against him.

Hey there stranger," he whispered softly, their faces inches apart. "You smell really good. Is that a new perfume?"

"Yes," she answered hoarsely. "It's called Finn." She leaned her head in closer so that her lips were right next to his ear. "It's my favorite scent in the whole world." She grinned as she felt him shiver against her.

"I smell good on you," he whispered roughly before pulling back to kiss her soundly on the lips. They exited the toilet hand in hand five minutes before Carole's car pulled up in the driveway, both wearing the same stupid grin on their faces. Rachel thought, as she leaned her head against his shoulder on the car ride back, that all things considered, her first babysitting experience was a resounding success.


	7. In which Rachel doesn't sing

The first week, nobody said anything. They figured it was just Rachel learning to chill when she didn't even bat an eyelash after Mr. Schue gave the solo to Tina. She had even smiled at the girl encouragingly, telling her that she was going to kill it.

"Th-th-thanks Rachel," Tina stuttered out of old habit, taken aback by the graciousness of their usually high strung leader.

"Not a problem. You've really improved vocally since you joined Glee Tina, and you deserve to show it off". He was immensely proud of her and when he told her so, she had just smiled at him and laid her head on his shoulder.

The next week when the solo had been given to Santana, he had frowned at Mr. Schue, wondering if the teacher was trying out some sort of social experiment on his girlfriend. Everyone had braced themselves for the epic showdown. But it never happened. Rachel continued her spiel about Christina Aguilera's horrible version of hairography that she watched on the Grammys the previous night, ignoring the dumbfounded look that Mercedes was giving her. He had shrugged it off as Rachel's utter disdain for Britney Spears and figured she just didn't want anything to do with the song and continued the rest of the meeting with his arm around her.

But when the third week came and she told Mr. Schue he should give Funny Girl to Kurt instead as it would be a refreshing change in perspective, he knew something was up. All the other glee members plus Mr. Schue had spent the whole meeting alternating between shooting him enquiring looks and cautiously gaping at Rachel, who, by the way she was tapping her foot to the beat, didn't seem to realize that the world had tilted on its axis.

"It's like Rachel had been kidnapped by aliens and was replaced with pod-Rachel," Kurt had muttered to him one night after dinner.

"Hey come on. She's being nice to you," he said warily. They were in the living room, alternating between NFL and So You Think You Can Dance.

"Exactly. The world as I know it has turned on its head," Kurt replied dramatically. "Miss Diva turning down Funny Girl is equivalent to me deciding to wear a sweater vest to school or Mercedes turning down Beyonce. It's just not the way the good lord made us." Finn frowned at his soon-to-be stepbrother. Truth be told, he was more than a little worried. Rachel has been completely mellow lately and nothing like her high-maintenance self that he knows and love. Just that morning he had missed his alarm clock and thus his morning run with Rachel. When he called to apologize, she told him she went without him and he should just go back to sleep. Not even one lecture on the need for a healthy lifestyle or proper sleeping patterns.

"I know man," he muttered distractedly, as the couple on screen did the tango. "I can't even remember the last time she tried to get me to drink that green thing she likes to bring to school."

"Spirulina?"

"Ugh. Yeah, that one."

"Something's going on with that girl. Did you do something?"

"What? _No_!" Finn was stung by the accusation. He was pretty sure that if his girlfriend was pissed at him, he would know. Rachel has always made it a point to be clear on that ground.

"Well whatever it is, you better get to the bottom of it. She's freaking the rest of us out. I do not want to go to school one day to find Rachel Berry doing a revival of Columbine." Finn fought the urge to roll his eyes.

The next morning he waited for her at her locker, as usual. Finn took the time to appreciate his girlfriend's smoking hot body as he spotted her walking towards him. _Who the hell knew knee-highs could be such a turn on_? But as he shifted his gaze from the her body to her face, he caught the frown. It was amazing how quickly Rachel could turn on her megawatt smile when she saw him looking.

"Hey babe," he greeted, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"Hey. I missed you yesterday night." He grinned.

"I missed you more." Her smile was more sincere as she opened her locker to retrieve her books.

"So Rach," he began tentatively "How are you?" She closed the door and turned to look at him, confused.

"I'm good. How are you?" A smile was tugging at her lips.

"Me? I'm great." They were walking towards her Biology class and he was wondering what was the best way to broach the subject.

"You think Kurt's gonna pull off Funny Girl?" He watched her intently, determined not to miss even the slightest movement. She shrugged.

"Aside from me, he's the only one that _can_ pull it off."

"Yeah, about that," he began conversationally. "Why did you turn the solo down?"

"Oh Miss. Sharp's already in class. I'm going to be late! Bye Finn, love you!" She kissed his cheek before darting off into Biology.

"Yeah. Love you too," he muttered to her back. Rachel was nothing if not determined. So he knew it wasn't going to be easy. But when it came to Rachel Berry, Finn Hudson was a self-proclaimed expert. _You can't avoid me forever_, he thought darkly as he started towards English.

XXX

"So what was that today?"

"What?" They were in her car. Rachel was driving him after school because Kurt has Cheerios. He always feels like a giant when he's in her car. It's so _tiny_. "Finn you know the seat can't go back any further. Stop fidgeting."

"The whole avoiding me thing. Where were you at lunch?"

"Ms. Bradley needed my services in the teacher's lounge." She refused to look him in the eye. Granted, they were on the road. But they're at a red light and she wouldn't even turn her head towards him.

"Okay what is going on?" He decided straightforward was the only way to go. "It's been like, three weeks since you sang anything that wasn't backup."

"So?" she asked, determinedly staring straight ahead.

"So you're starting to freak people out Rachel. It's not you." He saw her grip the steering wheel tighter.

"I'm learning to be gracious. I don't need to be the star everytime."

"Uh. Yes you do." He knew it was the wrong thing to say because she glanced at him and she looked like she wanted to cry. _Oh crap. Rewind! Rewind!_ "I mean, come on Rach, you're the star of Glee. Everyone knows that."

"Maybe I don't want to be a star."

"Rach. Babe. What's wrong?" Now he was _really_ concerned. What was this monstrosity (Rachel taught him that word when she was describing High School Musical. He thought monstrosity sounded awesome and _totally_ badass.) that was coming out of her mouth? She sighed dramatically.

"You told me you wished I wasn't so uptight and that it would be nice to have a girlfriend who doesn't annoy people all the time. I'm trying to be that." He gaped at her, a blank look on his face.

"I said that?" For the life of him, he could _not_ remember. But crap, Kurt was right. _He_ was the one who turned her into pod-Rachel.

"Not in so many words. We're here. See you tomorrow Finn," she said tersely as she pulled up in Kurt's (it's still weird to call it home) driveway. He didn't budge from his seat, even when she gave him a pointed look.

"Rachel I love you. I would never want you to change. I mean sure, you take yourself way too seriously and everyone at Glee kinda wants you to shut up most of the time." _Shit_. She was looking closer and closer to tears through each stupid word that vomited out of his mouth. "But I mean, I _love _that about you. You know that."

"No I don't," she answered softly, looking down. Finn sighed. What kind of a douchebag would make his girfriend think he can't stand her? _His_ kind. Of _course_.

"Rachel I don't ever, _ever_ want you to change. You wouldn't be Rachel Berry if you're not forcing everyone to prove their worth for a solo every week. And if you're not around to annoy us into practicing, you know we wouldn't be half as good as we are. We'll be like, just sitting around every meeting, like we have been for the past three weeks, waiting for someone to force us into choreography. Glee's not the same without you Rach." He's trying to say things as clearly as he possibly can. Knowing his uncanny ability to stuff things up, he hoped to God she got it. She looked up at him, her eyes glistening.

"Really?" she asked in a small voice.

"Totally. You like, keep us in line or whatever. And you know what Rach? Ever since you stopped forcing me to drink that green glop everyday, I get burned out like really, really fast."

"Of course," she answered, nodding her head. "Spirulina is known for giving organic energy and strengthening one's immune system," She continued looking at him as if to say, duh. _Of course_. He bit back a grin.

"Yeah that. So," he began as he pulled against her sleeve playfully. "Do you still think I hate your personality?" She smiled her ridiculously Rachel Berry smile.

"No."

"You sure? Cause I miss your voice like crazy baby. I've been going on Myspace every night just to listen to you sing-"

"Oh _Finn_!" she squealed, practically jumping on his lap, which was no easy feat considering where they were. "You really do love me!"

"Yeah Crazy. I really, really do," he answered affectionately, ruffling her hair. He could practically see the stars in her eyes as she stared at him. Then suddenly he couldn't anymore cause she was attacking him with her lips and it was really, _really_ hard for him to remember that they were in her car in the Hummel's driveway. In broad daylight.

"Thank _God_!" she muttered as she rested her head on his chest and he tried to tell his heart to not jump out of his chest. "You have _no_ idea how hard it was not being able to correct Tina's breathing or Santana's tendency to screech. And oh _God_ Finn, Funny Girl! I gave _Funny Girl_ away! To _Kurt_! It felt like I ripped my own heart out of my chest and _stomped_ on it!"

God, he _missed_ her.

"Rachel?"

"Hmm?"

"What exactly did I say?"

"Oh. You were discussing the merits of Archie with Artie and you told him you always liked Betty better."

_Of course._


	8. Small town girl in a lonely world

She had her first period when she was twelve years six months and five days old. She never wished for her mother more than she did then. You really don't know what awkwards means until you get two men and a little girl in a drugstore, trying to figure out what works best, a pad or a tampon? When her fathers realized where a tampon went, they both looked like they were about to throw up right there at the aisle in between the sanitizers and the lady-things (their words, not hers). As if the flame of embarassment that lit up her face wasn't enough, daddy had to swoon dramatically, and fainted on the spot (Sometimes she's certain he's her biological father. Their penchant for theatrics are just too similar to be coincidental.).

And nobody ever told her how much menstruation _hurt_. All she could do on the first day was lie on her deathbed, doubled-over in pain. She was absolutely certain she was about to die from some fatal disease. There was no way this kind of pain would be inflicted on any innocent soul on a monthly basis. Boy was she wrong. The fact that her period was so regularly predictable means that daddy would start fidgeting and fussing every single time the sixteenth of a month comes around. Her dad would shake his head and tell him to leave her be but to no avail. It killed him to see that a glass of water just could not cut it any longer. It took the three of them about a year before they realized that a hot water bottle would do a much better job.

Since then, she learned to go through all her firsts by herself. Granted, she didn't even know she needed a bra until a teacher had politely pulled her aside one day during lunch and suggested it delicately. She had returned to her seat, face stuck at abject horror, with a book placed protectively over her chest for the rest of the day. After the disaster that was forever after known as Red Dawn (again, their words, not hers), she thought she'd rather jump in a pool full of alligators before asking her fathers to take her bra shopping. Thankfully she met a very nice middle-aged saleswoman who thought she looked like a lot like the woman's niece. Martha was very helpful in assisting her with her selections and she felt eternally grateful towards the woman. In fact, she refuses to shop for lingerie with any other salesperson and would rather come back another day when Martha wasn't around.

She began to research extensively on what it means to be well, female, for a lack of a better word. As much as she loved her parents, and she does so dearly, being gay and being female are two mutually exclusive things and the two of them are painfully clueless sometimes. Maybe if her fathers were more like the gays she sees portrayed on television (usually the sassy, stylish bestfriend of the leading lady), she wouldn't be having so much problems. But neither of them knew a thing about fashion, although their knowledge on theater was vast and endless (She was beginning to think that the way homosexuals are depicted on the big screen was doing a huge disservice to her upbringing).

Up until she was twelve years seven months and a day old, her fathers dressed her up in overalls and knee socks, jumpers being their favorite wardrobe of choice. By the time she realized she was too old to be dressed by her parents, Rachel had gotten too comfortable with the argyle and the animal prints to willingly part with them. It comforted her, the familiar scratch of the wool on her body reminding her that she was Rachel Berry and her star shines bright. The only thing that changed were the skirts which will always be a point of contention between her and her dad. She believed that it was the only article of clothing that made her blend in somewhat (to completely blend would be her greatest nightmare) with the rest of the school population. He thought it made her look too grown up, whatever that meant. In the end the skirts lingered because she was Rachel Berry and she wasn't raised by two of the best lawyers in the county without picking up some argument techniques along the way.

She wrote her first letter to her elusive mother when she was approximately thirteen years, nine months and fourteen days old when Quinn Fabray had laughed at the panda prints on her sweater and called her RuPaul. She always had a love-hate relationship with her nose, but she hardly thought she looked in any way similar to a drag queen (much as she admired the man's courage to push boundaries.). All the same, her feelings were hurt. She could hardly talk to her parents about it, not wanting them to worry about the bullying that happened at school. And she hardly remembered what it was like to have friends. The only true friend she ever had was Sara who moved away when she was eight to follow her father who was with the army. Eight year-olds just don't know how to keep in touch.

When she was fourteen years six months and three days old, she got hit by her first slushie, courtesy of Noah 'Puck' Puckerman from the football team. The bell signifying the end of another school day had rang and she had almost reached the exit of her own personal hell when the boy had come up to her without her noticing. The ice cold burst to her face felt like a wake-up call, telling her she would never be welcomed among the rest of the student population. The shrill, cruel laughter from the group of jocks in front of her prevented her from letting the tears fall. Without a word, she had swiftly turned around to look for the girls toilet. Ice chips had hurt her eyes and she was practically blind as she tried to find her way. Suddenly, someone had a grip on her wrist and she almost screamed, thinking that this might really be the last straw that breaks her. But the grasp had softened and the quiet "Come on," had calmed her enough for her heart rate to come back down to normal.

From her skewed vision she made out a tall figure (approximately six feet and three inches she would find out later, after the first time they danced together), in front of her, slouching almost as if something was weighing the person down. She realized that it was one of _them_ when she saw the letterman jacket, the red and white of the school logo taunting her. Rachel wondered if she was just setting herself up for another cruel joke and was about to pull away, but he suddenly stopped and let go of her hand. "Here," he had said pushing open a door and gently nudging her in. She found herself in the girls bathroom. As she tried her best to look presentable to her waiting fathers (She told her parents that she tripped and spilled the drink all over herself, hoping they don't question the fact that she hates ice-blended drinks. They don't.), she remembered the younger version of Noah Puckerman , who defended her once against the very people he call friends now. She leaves an extra set of clothes in her locker from then on.

She knew the best way to survive with her sanity intact was to keep herself under the radar and be invisible. But Rachel Berry was a star in the making and she would never stoop so low as to let these people bring her down. So when she was fourteen years six months and one week old, Rachel began sticking a gold star next to her name. She had gone to the drugstore the previous weekend and bought a box full of those stars. It would last for months. It was a metaphor, and metaphors are important. She joins every society and club under the sun because being invisible just doesn't suit her.

(Sometimes she wonders if maybe she does this as a sort of twisted revenge, forcing herself onto these people who were determined to extinguish her shine. She was adamant that she would only shine brighter, enough to blind them.)

It never used to be this bad when she was younger, but she guessed childish scorn just made its way into youthful cruelty among the teenage population of Lima, Ohio. Or at least those attending William McKinley. She knew her fathers had something to do with her lack of friends in this small town. Being raised by gay men was just not something that flies among the general community in Lima. And because she loves her parents more than anything in the world and would defend them to the death if and when the need arises, she does her best to protect them by keeping every hurtful insult a secret. She knew how much they loved the place, much as she wondered why sometimes. Or most of the time.

But a person can really take so much before they start losing their minds, and although her fathers pay handsomely for a professional therapist to analyze her mental health every week, Rachel believed that her letters to her anonymous mother were more therapeutic (Plus she could never actually _tell_ the therapist anything, knowing it would all go back to her fathers). She never knew the woman, never knew what she looked like. She would never ask her parents, not wanting to hurt their feelings. Still, it was nice to pretend that she was sending these letters to someone out there (even though really, they were all tucked away in a shoebox under her bed), someone who knew what her life was like. She liked to think that wherever the woman was, she was just as curious as her.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night when all the lights are off and she lies in bed under the covers, Rachel Berry imagines that wherever she is, her mother was thinking of her too, when she looks up at the brightest star in the sky.


	9. This is not a fairytale

She had been raised on a healthy diet of fairy tales and happy endings, Disney princesses being her earliest form of role models. Rachel found a kindred spirit in every one of them at one point or another in her life. Ariel spoke to her as a child with her beautiful voice and her need for something else, something more. When she was older and the real world was just a little too antagonistic for her liking, she was Cinderella, the benevolent lady who always took every instance of opression in stride with a smile held perfectly in place. Jasmine had a sense of adventure that she craved for. She used to imagine New York as a place of wonder for a small town girl such as herself (Although, the phrase small town girl had never really suited her in the first place.), much like the city of Arabia had been for the princess. And Aurora, well who wouldn't want to be her? The epitome of a princess, with the ever-loyal prince charming travelling through thorn-filled woods and battling a magical dragon for his true love's kiss.

But through it all, the princess she identified most with was not a princess at all. One constant truth in Rachel Berry's life was her conviction of her similarity to Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Rachel was Belle in real life. She just embodies everything about that character. Her larger than life personality, her firm certainty that there was something more out there for her than the 'provincial life' she was living, her gracefulness, the fact that nobody in the place she lived in ever understood her and her beautiful dreams. The isolation she felt because of it. Rachel understood it all. And so, like all authentic followers of the Disney way of life, she had spent her whole life dreaming of her Beast, the one person in the whole world who would understand her and love her for all the things that turned everybody else away.

She imagined meeting him as a struggling actress, trying to make it in Broadway. He would be a cold and reserved playwright. Or maybe a director. They would meet one night when she, while working as a lounge singer to make ends meet, unknowingly performed for this man whose reclusive personality hid a dark and tormented past that could only be soothed by the beauty of her voice. She had imagined a clashing of personalities and misunderstood notions that will be resolved in a highly romantic and emotional manner, where the quiet and reserved Beast finally confessses his pent-up feelings for her in an outburst of affections, releasing the prince that had been figthing to get through. And she had imagined a happily ever after.

Never in a million years could she have imagined the Beast as a 6'3 gentle giant, awkward and naive. She didn't imagine her Beast as a sweet and innocent young man, whose biggest flaws were his need to conform and a peculiar inability to be articulate. She had imagined being swept away by a dark past, not teenage pregnancies or peer pressure. She imagined the protection of a dark and brooding man. She didn't picture being subjected to vulnerability through thoughtless decisions and cowardly acts. She never thought his beastly acts would come in the protection of his own reputation or in the protection of another girl, an actual princess, unlike her. She didn't imagine her Beast to be _him_.

But then again, she was more than a character in a fairy tale. Her flaws were much larger than Belle's, her grating personality and insane need for the spotlight being the most obvious ones. She had a tendency to be condescending. Her personality, though colorful and exciting, have always been too much for any sane person. And she was pushy, determined to the point of becoming overbearing. The intense way she craves for everything sometimes borders upon dysfuncional. She knows this.

The clashing of personalities were still there. She was loud and agressive, never keeping her opinions to herself. She liked to think that like Belle, she always made it a point to think for herself.

Sometimes she talks more than she should.

He on the other hand, well he was more reserved, a little like the Beast she imagined. He never says much, and she knows it was because he was painfully aware of his tendency to fumble and blunder through his words.

Sometimes he doesn't say enough.

But when he does speak, she has learned to listen. His words were like precious metal, few and far in between and was worth their weight in gold (Nobody else but her seemed to have realized this, and that makes her feel special.).

As Belle, she had imagined her Beast to confess his love in a dramatic manner, sweeping her off her feet with words full of passion and a kiss that would spin her world off its axis.

People always did tell her that she was a drama queen.

In reality, her life was much more subdued than in it was in the confines of her inventive imagination. His confession came like a sudden gust of wind, quiet and understated just like he was. Her world didn't tilt off its axis. Instead, all she felt was a lightness that seemed to grow from somewhere inside her, a crazy kind of happiness she never felt before.

His tranformation into the prince charming she had dreamed of didn't come like a sudden burst of miracle either. It was gradual, almost unnoticeable (She thinks it began when he held her gaze firmly and told her that they were "going to win this thing".). But she saw it in those smiles he seemed to have reserved especially for her, in the way he held her hand with pride, as if he was daring anyone to come up to him and tell him that they didn't belong together. And in the new-found determination that colored his eyes as he worked harder for _everything_.

As she grew older, she realized that maybe defining one's self through a character from a fairy tale wasn't the most realistic judgement she had ever made. In the grand scheme of things, her life was nothing like the one she had envisioned in her fantasies. He was nothing like the Beast she used to dream of, and she was so much more than Belle could ever be. It was as much as of a surprise to her as it was to everybody else when she realized that she wouldn't have it any other way.


	10. This is not a fairytale part II

She's melodramatic. Loud. Imposing. Articulate to a fault. She'd be the first to say that she was high-maintenence and annoying. Even a little conceited at times. She wants too much. She feels everything too much. Her emotions run deep within the extremes. She would be the first to cry, the first to be be furious, the first to laugh. She would also be the first to love. Everybody he knows says that she's a drama queen, including herself. He just thinks it's because she cares too much. He thinks she puts too much of herself into everything.

She has these high expectations for him. So high up there that sometimes he fears he may never reach them. When he tells her so, she just smiles and says that he will. She's confident. She believes in him wholeheartedly. Because that's just who she is. Rachel Berry immerses all that she is into everything she does; body, heart and soul.

And when she loves him... _God_. It overwhelms him. It's completely mind-blowing how much faith she has in him, how much love she can give. It leaves him breathless sometimes, when he thinks about it for too long. Sometimes it terrifies him, because she is Rachel Berry and he is Finn Hudson, and things never seem to come easy for either of them. He sometimes thinks that all signs have been pointing against them from the beginning.

She _is_ the stunning young ingenue. But he has never really thought of himself as the hot male lead. Sure, he knows he's good looking. And yeah, he's the popular kid that everyone kind of wants to be. But they're in Losertown, Ohio. Being the big man here means nothing. He's terrified that it's all he'll ever be. The biggest guy in town. She has never really belonged here. This town has always been too small for her. And sometimes he thinks he is too. When she leaves (and he knows she will) Lima, she'll leave everything about this small town that has never learned to appreciate her. And maybe that will include him. Rachel is ambitious, over-eager maybe, but always graceful. She has always known what she wants. He just knows he wants to get out of Lima. She's too good for him and in his darkest thoughts, Finn fears she'll probably always be too good for him.

Sometimes he wakes up and thinks, _this is it_. This is the day where he's going to disappoint her for that one time too many and she'll realize that her love is something that is far too valuable to waste on someone like him. The way he holds on to her heart is awkward and clumsy, forever juggling it in his large and incompetent hands, with his good intentions and his simplistic declarations. He feels like an oaf in love with a princess. He is in every way the complete opposite of her, with her flowery words and her romantic notions and her ability to make him fall, fall, _fall_ with a quirk of a smile on her face. She holds his heart daintily in the palm of her small hands. And he is too acutely aware of how easy it would be for her to crush it flat. He wonders if it would still be worth it if (when) that happens.

But every morning he still finds her waiting at his locker, with that smile on her face that makes it glow, and he is certain that smile is born out of absolute adoration. For him. When she takes his hand and weaves their fingers together, humming under her breath a song that he knows is all about happiness and forever after, he thinks maybe she's singing about them. This makes him feel a little better.

Their eyes always seem to find each other unconsciously. He always knows where she is in the stands, even with hundreds of bloodthirsty spectators shouting his name and sweat seeping its way into his eyes. She just stands out, with her Team Finn t-shirt and that crazy, proud smile adorning her face. She puts gold stars next to her name and he puts her name next to every single star he sees.

She is so ridiculously tiny and he is a huge bumbling baboon. In the beginning he was always afraid of hurting her with his large and clumsy body that was always knocking into her and leaving her breathless. So he held her like she was fragile, always keeping the extent of his desires in check. But then one day she jumped onto him determinedly, her legs locking themselves at his waist and her arms clasped tightly around his neck. He was the one stumbling then, the breath knocked out of _him_. That's when he realized the force of her determination was just as strong as his body. He becomes considerably less careful ever since.

He finds himself wanting to be better. He works harder at everything. Glee. Football. Basketball. Even school. He's constantly pissed with himself when he just doesn't get it. _You __**are**_ _a moron, just like everybody thinks_. But she's always patient with him, even though sometimes he sees her holding back her frustration. When he slumps his body in defeat in her kitchen chair, moaning about the complexities of Calculus (Or Spanish. Or Biology. Or English. The list is an embarrassingly long one) that he will _never_ understand, she just forces his head back up off the table and tells him primly to try again.

The first B+ he ever got in his life was in Math. He had to shake his head a few times, reading and re-reading the red capital letter at the top of his paper. She had been waiting for him by his locker, a nervous smile plastered onto her face. He'd given the test to her wordlessly as he hid his face in his locker, unable to contain his giddy grin. When he'd heard the squeal, he had turned around immediately and grabbed her by the waist. He'd spun her in circles in the middle of the school hallway, barely missing a few freshmen hurrying to class. Her laughter had been ringing in his ears as she'd begged him to put her down. "I'm so proud of you," she had said softly, with a blinding smile on her lips and tears in her eyes. Pride had bloomed in his chest at her simple words and he'd known he was going to do whatever it took to be the best just so he could love this girl forever.

When he was a kid he'd always loved fairy tales (he would hang himself up the flag pole by his underwear before he'd ever admit this to anyone, though). Now he thinks that Rachel Berry is like the princess in the tower. He thinks that he's the prince, and all of his shortcomings, faults and disappointments, well they're the foundation of that tower. But she isn't just any princess waiting to be rescued. She's like Rapunzel with her long freaky hair (he always thought that one was a little creepy - and that her hair probably smelled), she has ways and means to find shortcuts for him to reach her faster. Which is good. Because Finn Hudson is a bumbling prince, and he sure as hell needs them.


	11. Homecoming

**A/N: Future arc**

* * *

><p>He took in a lungful of air, panting heavily as he reached the last step. Picking an apartment on the fifith floor didn't seem like such a good idea anymore when the lift seemed to always be broken. No wonder they had gotten what he had thought to be a steal with the rent. When his heart stopped feeling like it was about to explode, he strode quickly out the entrance, bracing himself for more heavy load. He had already made the mental calculations. Six more trips and he would be done. Easier said than done. Finn groaned. He could only be grateful that he had given in to Rachel's incessant nagging and agreed to begin unpacking three days before they were supposed to move in. If it had been up to him and they had to move everything on the day itself, he would surely be dead by now. Honest to God, death by sheer exhaustion of climbing up five freaking flights of stairs carrying the many, many boxes that contained their whole lives.<p>

He opened the door and stopped at the sight before him. Rachel was attempting to carry an impossibly large box for her size, a crazy, determined look gracing her features. She had one backpack slung across her back, and another one strapped across her front and a sling bag, swinging back and forth, hanging on her right elbow. He bit back his amused grin as he called out to her.

"Baby what do you think you're doing?" She looked up when she heard him and smiled brightly.

"Helping you." Finally having a good grip on the box, she moved to straighten up and wobbled slightly.

"You're not carrying that up to our apartment," he said as he hurried over to steady her. She frowned at him

"Finn Hudson I am perfectly capable of carrying our own belongings into our new home. More than half of these are mine."

"I know you are. Just not that box. It's too heavy." She made a noise of discontent as he easily took the box away from her. Rachel stomped her foot impatiently.

"If I don't help you then today is going to take forever and you're going to be exhausted once we're done! You know I intend on making this place as homey as possible by this evening."

"Exactly," he replied casually as he set the box down and ruffled her hair. She moved her head out of his reach obstinately. "Honey you're going to tip over if you carry this thing. And then I'm going to have to take you to the emergency room when you fall down the stairs and break your back and it's going to take even longer to get this place set up." She sighed in resignation. He couldn't help but grin affectionately at the sight of her and all those bags hanging off her small frame.

"You're right. I'm just too dainty for this kind of work. But Finn, just look at our things!" She gestured towards the open mouth of the van he had rented. Finn had to work on keeping the dismay away from his face. There were still a lot of boxes in there. Six trips worth of boxes.

"You just had to bring your whole childhood with you."

"I wasn't the one who brought over my entire collection of video games."

"No. But you did bring two huge boxes full of your medals and trophies since you were what, three months old?"

"Those are my accomplishments Finn! You know I need the motivation if I am going to go through the long-suffering road to stardom!"

"Yeah, but three months Rach? Really?"

"It reminds me that I was born a star. It's a metaphor."

"And metaphors are important, right?" he teased, grinning. She made a face at him and stuck out her tongue, her hand on her hips.

"Are you going to agitate me all day?" she asked haughtily, "Or are we actually going to try to get things done by the end of this decade?"

"But agitating you is so much fun. Okay, okay I'm sorry," he apologised, holding up his hands in surrender as she slapped his arm. "You take those bags. I'll take the boxes."

"I can carry more than this you know. Both of my hands are empty. Let me help you!" Finn scanned around the area before his gaze landed on her bedside lamp.

"Here you go," he said, shoving it into her arms. She looked at him witheringly.

"Your penchant at underestimating my strength is infuriatingly sexist and discriminating to my gender."

"Not your gender, only you." She stuck out her tongue at him one last time before swiftly turning on her heel and stalking up the stairs of the entrance. He laughed quietly to himself as he watched her.

Who would have guessed they'd get to this point in their lives? He certainly hadn't. Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson had graduated from high school almost six years ago, firmly sealing their status as high school sweethearts in the mind of every one of their peers. They thought they would be together forever. They were wrong. Rachel, as expected, had left Lima for the bright lights of New York City, paving her way to stardom, one college course at a time. Finn, unexpectedly, had graduated high school with enough credits to actually be accepted to college. But not in New York. Stll, they had been adamant to stay together, with him driving across more than five hundred miles of road to send her off.

In the course of their college career, they had broken up exactly three times. The first lasted for one week, when three months into college Rachel had, through some insane glitch in thought process, somehow came to the conclusion that 'group project' was code word for him having an illicit, adulterous affair with a blonde, blue-eyed classmate that hailed from Georgia, whose name he had completely forgotten by now. It lasted for a week, mainly because Finn had been unaware of their broken-up status until halfway through the week, when he had finally opened his Facebook page to find her relationship status to be single. He had immediately called her up, only to be received by her voicemail as he urgently asked her whether she was upset with him. In hindsight, not calling your girlfriend for three days and not noticing that she hadn't called you either because you were up to your skull in assignments, had probably helped him in screwing up the situation. He had ended up serenading her from her friend, Al's phone through the speakers in front of not only Al, but also her new roomate. Bryan Adams always did the trick.

The second time they broke up, it was for three days when they were both in their second year. The strain of being apart was taking a toll on the both of them and Rachel, high-strung on her heavy workload and menstruation pills, had called him up one night to weepily dump her sorrows on him. It had to be the night before his big Economics test. Needless to say, the call had ended disastrously, with her screaming that she never wanted to see him again and him yelling that that would be just fine with him. One test and one completed menstruation cycle later, they had both sheepishly apologised for their behavior and Finn had driven his brand new second hand car up to New York for a mutually satisfying weekend that would have had to last them for at least a month.

The third time lasted for his whole final year. It all began with the big ugly F he had received for his Decision Science class the semester before. Convinced that he was going to end up a Lima loser for life, he had came up with what he had thought at the time was the best decision he could make for her. Finn didn't want Rachel to end up being saddled with a failure like him who could only be hindering her path to stardom. Therefore one night after absolutely no further thinking at all, he had called her up and gently told her that they were over. For good this time. Obviously, failing a class about the science of decision making had taught him nothing. She had cried, begged, yelled and provoked for two weeks straight, all to no avail.

He was adamant that if there was one thing he wasn't going to screw up, it was Rachel Berry and her dreams. Final year had been completely miserable as he went through two semesters of hell without Rachel Berry to call home. He figured out pretty quickly that casual dating just wasn't for him and that his taste was completely narrowed down to 5'2 brunette midgets with powerhouse vocals and a tendency for self-obsession. His lack of social life led him to work hard for his final two semesters, getting respectful grades that never fell below a B-. His second attempt at Decision Science had produced an A-. Through Al, he had received the occasional news of how she was doing and Rachel Berry had starred in two college productions of West Side Story and Little Shop of Horrors. As expected, she was thriving without him. It wasn't until the day he recieved his result for the final time and realized he was graduating with second class honors, that it hit him like a blow to the head that the only person he truly wanted to tell was Rachel Berry.

The next two days had been a blur of depression and drunken heartfelt confessions to his annoyed roomate who finally told him to either man the hell up and call her or stop being such a pathetic drunk. Finn had thrown an empty beer can at his head. He must have taken Tom's advice however, because the morning after, he had woken up with a huge hangover and Rachel Berry's number in his call list. Panicking, he read the numbers for a second time, confirming that no, he wasn't mistaken. Three months after he ended things, Finn had deleted her name from his phone because of his strong tendency to want to call her evey single time he scrolls past her name. Her actual number, however, had forever been imprinted in his mind. He could dial them in his sleep. And even in the state of being totally plastered, apparently. By that afternoon when nothing happened and she didn't call, he was stuck between feeling relieved and completely crushed.

Two days after that, he had returned to his room early, leaving Tom to fend for himself at Bobby Silverman's annual end-of semester bash because the sophomore that had been hanging off his arm the whole night had really started to bug the hell out of him. He knew something was wrong when he saw the door of their room was unlocked and slightly ajar. Kicking the door open to scare off whoever was inside, Finn was rendered shocked and stood stock-still when he found Rachel Berry perched primly on his bed, a startled look on her face. She had stood up immediately, losing her balance and almost tripping on her feet if his arm hadn't suddenly shot out of it's own accord to steady her. The abrupt contact had caused the both of them to jump and her head had collided against his chest. Apologizing profusely and extracting herself quickly, she moved away in embarrassment. He was still speechless.

Rachel went off into a tangent, stammering nervously about receiving his call and how he had apparently told her he missed her and wanted her to please, please get to where he was. He couldn't remember any of it, and the look on his face made it obvious. Her slightly hopeful face had fallen as she mutterd under her breath that she should have known he was too drunk to really mean them and that she was going to kill Al when she finds him. She looked up at him and he could see the tell-tale signs of her tears about to fall but it gave way to a cool and reserved expression as she told him that she was sorry for barging into his life and that she was leaving immediately. As she turned to leave he had panicked and strangled out a loud (and dramatic) no, reaching out to grab her shoulders frantically to keep her from leaving. Just because he couldn't remember, he told her, didn't mean he didn't mean every single word.

She had looked up at him then, looking as if she was afraid to believe him. The realization that Rachel Berry was in front of him and that she was real felt like being run over by a bus. She was there. Really, really there for real. Not just some sick, twisted figment of his imagination born out of the part of his mind that had refused to believe that she was already gone from his life. He will forever plead that it was a moment of insanity and desperation when he had roughly pulled her towards him, causing her to literally fall into his arms before he had bent down to kiss her with all the pent-up desire and emotion that had been bottled up within him for a year. The next thing he knew, he had her pressed up against the door with one hand under her shirt squeezing her side and the other holding her up firmly against him. He pulled away to find her looking completely dazed, with her eyes completely glazed over. When they finally cleared, she had looked him straight in the eyes, her gaze darkening considerably as she told him "Don't you dare pull away," and pulled his head down roughly to meet hers in a searing kiss. He complied without question. Tom had been effectively locked out of the room that night with the deadbolt he had never had the need for until that moment.

Things hadn't gone over as smoothly after that. After their passionate outburst of emotion had subsided, they had had a long talk where she had alternated from crying to beating the shit out of him for four straight hours. He was just glad she was still there. The following month had him basically groveling at her feet, doing anything and everything he could to gain back her trust and win her over. The latter wasn't so hard. The former was much harder. But it had all led to two months later where she stood proudly next to her mother at his graduation ceremony, wearing her old Team Finn t-shirt that she had for some reason brought to college with her. It was an inside joke that nobody else but the two of them would get even though his mom loved it and Burt had smiled, a bit bemusedly. When his name was called out and he strode on to the stage, she had let out the loudest wolf whistle he had ever heard, piercing the polite applause that went throught the audience. She had picked up a lot of new talent during their time apart. The photographer had caught him, mid-guffaw with his eyes crinkled at the corners as he was handed over his degree. She had made a small copy of the picture, croping out everything but him and stuck it in her wallet. She said that it was a symbol of how happy she made him and how happy he was going to be for the rest of his life, but only if he wouldn't stupid enough to let her go again. He agreed wholeheartedly.

Rachel had another six months of education and so he went back to Lima to help out Burt with his workshop. Temporarily, of course. On his free time, he sent out his resume to every single probable position he could to basically every company in New York. By the time her graduation rolled around, he was down to his hundredth interview and was wearily awaiting another rejection. He presevered at her insistence that he was going to be hired soon and that it was only a matter of time before she gets her first starring role because New York was where she was meant to be and he was meant to be wherever she was. By then they were both crashing with Al and his boyfriend at their apartment that was really meant for only two people. But the couple was amazing and didn't complain once. Al had struck gold apparently, landing a gig as a photographer for some famous magazine he didn't know the name of. His partner, John was a few years older and was working as a junior lawyer to some firm he should probably know too. He helped with the housework because he had sixteen years worth of experience as an only child to a single mother. She did the cooking, which was unfortunate. But after a few burnt meals, Rachel finally learned the art of making pasta without burning the noodles.

It wasn't until two months later when he found himself with not one, but two separate offers in the Human Resource department. The larger company paid a larger salary, but Rachel had suggested he went with the smaller one because she thought the building looked a little less intimidating. He agreed and found himself with an honest to God job. When Rachel landed a role in a play off off Broadway, they began to look for their own place. Al and John helped, having had the experience and the ability to bargain and slash rent rates like nobody's business.

Another two months and there they were, moving into their very first home, a place of their very own. They had both went back to Lima to pack up the rest of their things and maybe went a little overboard. By his fourth trip, Finn wondered where all his stamina as a football player went because his legs felt like jelly and his hands felt like lead. Rachel had obnoxiously told him that it served him right for being such an alpha male and he had reciprocated with a slap on her ass as he wearily told her to stop talking and start unpacking. An hour later, the last of the boxes finally found their way into the apartment and Finn leaned heavily against the closed door, his shirt sticking to his back , annoying the heck out of him. He took off his shirt and threw it on the floor as he slid down against the door. Before he could settle himself, she was already calling him.

"Finn I need your help with this!" He groaned tiredly, banging his head against the door. Couldn't she let him take a second to breathe? It was almost dark out, and she was probably upset that they didn't have the time to finish unpacking because there was no way in hell he could sum up any energy left within him to lift open a box.

"Just a minute. I can't move."

"_Finnn_!" she whined. "Now!" Sighing, he pushed away from the door and forced his tired body to comply as he walked slowly towards their soon-to-be bedroom. Rachel was nowhere to be found. Everything they owned were still in boxes, with a few things lying messily around like her clothes and some of his video games. He looked longingly at the mattress that had been pushed against the wall. The bed won't come until the next day.

"Baby? What do you want?"

"Close your eyes," he heard her say softly. He frowned at the toilet where her voice came from.

"Rachel?" he asked as he took a step towards her.

"Don't move! Just do as I say. Please baby?" He sighed witheringly and closed his was she up to now?

"Fine." He heard her bustling around the room and swore softly as she bumped against something, probably a box. He felt like he could fall asleep standing up. Finn felt her standing in front of him as she pushed herself up against his chest.

"You may open your eyes now," she whispered softly. He blinked his eyes open to find Rachel staring up seductively at him, her hands softly gripping his arms. He blinked again. He had never seen those set of lingerie before. Suddenly he wasn't so tired anymore.

"Where'd you get those?" he asked, his voice hoarse as her hands left his arms to rest on his bare chest.

"I had a little shopping trip with Al last week. It's your homecoming present. Do you like it?" He had her pressed up against their new wall in a matter of seconds, his hands roaming all over the material of her new weapon of seduction and his lips glued to her neck as she giggled breathlessly.

"I take it that's a yes?" she asked softly, her breath hitched against her throat as his lips hovered warmly over her pulse point.

"That's a hell yeah," he mutterd darkly against her lips as he captured them with his own. It took a whole incredibly gratifying hour, but they finally made it to the edge of their new mattress. He pushed her and she fell back against the mattress, her body bouncing twice as she tried to catch her breath. She reached out a hand for him, her gaze never straying from his. He took it and followed her lead, lying on top of her and adjusting for a second before their bodies fell into place. As he leaned his head down towards her, she reached up and circled her arms around his neck, pulling herself up until her mouth rested against his ear.

"Welcome home Finn," she whispered.


	12. Every inch you see is bruised

Rachel Berry was talking a mile a minute about some musical she once saw on a trip to New York with her was in his room. On his bed. And she was talking about musicals. Sprawled on the beanbag at the corner of the room, he watched her mouth move rapidly, not listening to a word she was saying. Three weeks ago was sectionals. Three weeks ago Finn Hudson thought he had his life at least partly figured out. Three weeks ago he realized he didn't know shit about anything. Quinn lied. She _lied_. And Puck. He was supposed to have Finn's back. Wasn't that what friends were for? Wasn't that what being best friends were about? He guessed not.

Her face lit up at whatever memory she was conjuring up at the moment. The sunlight that filtered through the window caught her face and made it look like she was literally glowing. Finn knew he should be listening to her, should want to know what it was that was making her so happy that her face threatened to split in two. But truthfully, he just couldn't make himself care. When she had invited herself over, he said yes because well, at least he wouldn't be alone, would he? And she was continuing to talk happily, not even caring or maybe not even noticing that he wasn't following the conversation.

Sometimes Finn thought he was fine. That things really weren't that bad. But then something always happens. Like when he was in his car and two kids passed him by, wildly gesturing at each other in their baseball uniforms. And he would remember Puck when they were younger, and how they had both promised they'd make it to the football team together or not at all. Or two weeks ago when he was at school and he spotted Quinn and his former bestfriend walking down the hall together. They had looked miserable. But the sight of them together only made him think of the lie they told, of the way they completely disregarded him and hurt him with smiles on their faces. He had slammed his locker so hard, they both looked up and saw him. But he had looked away immediately and walked towards Rachel down the hall, ignoring the frown on her face.

Or yesterday, when he turned on his lap top and that stupid, _stupid_ sonogram was just there on his desktop. And he was fucking a douchebag but he clicked on that stupid folder anyway and he saw her. And he fucking cried like a baby, so hard, that his mother knocked desperately at the door, begging him to let her in.

"Drizzle." The sound of his voice surprised him. He looked up from the spot on the floor to see her cock her head at him questioningly. "I wanted to name her Drizzle". Her expression softened. He couldn't stop looking at her. It was so ridiculously expressive. "Because of the rain, you know? You know when it's still sunny but it's not hot and the rain is just kinda there but not in your way or whatever, and sometimes you can even see rainbows-" He stopped talking then, unsure what the fuck he was even saying. She smiled at him, not unkindly.

"I think Drizzle's a beautiful name Finn."

"No it's not. It's a stupid name. Only a dumbass would want to give a kid a name like that." His tone was vicious. She was _so easy_ to read. Her smile turned into a frown almost instantly. And then she was looking at him, her face so filled with anguish, he had to look away.

"So it's a good thing she wasn't mine in the first place right?" he continued morosely as he stared at the floor. "I mean the poor child could have gotten my stupid genes. Can you get that from your parents? Stupidity?" He looked up at the sudden movement. She was looking at him, all offended like he just insulted her. She walked over until she stood directly in front of him, her hands on her hips.

"You are not stupid Finn Hudson. Stop saying that." She crouched down, her face at level with his. Her expression was soft, inviting. "That baby, Finn, she would have been the luckiest girl in the world if you were really her father." She said this earnestly, like she really meant them and he thought it was just this side of dysfunctional that she was telling him he'd be a great father and they were both barely sixteen. But dysfunctional was apparently Finn Hudson's middle name these days. He felt her fingers under his jaw, gently forcing him to look up.

"I know how much you loved the baby," she said, and her eyes looked wet. A tear slipped out and he found himself bringing up a hand to wipe it away. He heard her sharp intake of breath and he said nothing. Her eyes glazed over for a moment before she shook her head firmly. She seemed to be steeling herself up for something. "Finn, do you really want her to be yours?" she asked softly. She changed her position, sitting down indian-style on the floor, looking up at him. He thought about it.

"I- I don't know. I thought she was mine, Rachel. And I- I was so bummed at the thought of giving her away because I wanted to know her, you know? I didn't want to let her go. But then suddenly she's not mine anymore. And I just- it hurts." _Damnit. Don't cry. Don't you fucking cry damnit. _"I never- I don't know who my dad is. He died and I can barely remember what he looks like sometimes. And it had scared the hell out of me when I thought I was gonna be one because what do fathers do? You know? And Dri- the baby." he corrected himself firmly. _It's not Drizzle. It's __**not**_. "I saw her Rachel. I have a picture of her in my stupid lap top. I just- I-"

"You love her." she finished softly. He shrugged and looked away. She laid a hand on his thigh. "It's okay Finn."

"What is?"

"It's okay to care." she smiled. Her smile was ridiculously sad, like she knew exactly what he was feeling or something. But how could she? 

"I don't want to care," he muttered.

"But you do anyway. You care about Drizzle. I know you do. There's nothing wrong with that. And maybe when she's out there she wouldn't even know you exist. But you'll know she does. And that's what matters right? That you know you love her?" Her voice was wistful and she's staring off into space and it was like she wasn't even talking to him.

"Thanks." She looked at him, surprised.

"For what?"

"For being here. Just, thanks." She smiled and he leaned closer, his face just inches away from hers. Huge brown eyes were staring into him, full of wonder. He knew how she felt about him. And she makes him feel less lonely, less sad. Sometimes she could even make him smile. And as odd as it was, letting her voice wash over him as she chatters away merrily has a calming effect on him.

So why not?

He closed the gap.


	13. Showtime

What was he supposed to be doing? He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything. Where he was. What day it was. His first name. His last name. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. He couldn't remember anything because Rachel Berry was kissing him. What was he doing before her lips were on his? Vaguely, he remembered it was something he deemed important at the time. But what could possibly be more important than this? This moment where he could feel the familiar taste of her lips and the way it presses against _his_, the way her body was leaning into _his_, her hands holding on to _his_ shoulders, fingers gently scrunching up _his_ shirt. Every conceivable thing in his world, his universe, was revolving around the single feel of her lips against his. Slowly, after what felt to him like a million different lifetimes, but what was in reality less than a single minute, she was pulling away.

She was smiling and his head was still spinning. The entire place was a blur, her smiling face being the only thing in focus, the only thing he zeroed in on. He knew his face probably looked stupid. He thought his heart could probably jump out of his chest and he would still be standing there with that blank look on his face. It took him a few seconds to regain his senses. Her smile was growing wider. He felt his body growing lighter, feeling as if some sort of dam had been broken and everything was flowing in and around his body all at once. The smile tugged against his lips almost imperceptibly, shy and uncertain.

He remembered where he was. They were in school. On a stairwell. It was Monday. Regionals is on Saturday. He had meant to give her a piece of his mind. Tell her how he thought she was letting the team down. He had wanted to tell her to suck it up becaused if they had to go down, they're going down with a bang. Finn. That was his name. Rachel Berry was giggling. The sound filtered through his ears making its way into his brain. It stayed there, bouncing around against his skull, filling his mind with joy and rainbows and sunshine and everything that was good and happy.

"We're late," she says softly, tugging gently at his hand, pulling him along with her as she walked down the stairs towards their choir room. Nobody walks like Rachel Berry. She doesn't just walk, doesn't just put one feet in front of the other like other people. No, Rachel Berry glides with a spring in her step. Her whole body moves and her hair swings gently from side to side and Finn thinks of those dancers his mom likes to watch on television. The ones who stand on their tiptoes and walk like they're floating. When she walks, he imagines the melody that accompanies her steps are sunny and bright and beautiful. He follows her blindly, his eyes trained on the swish of her hair trailing down her back in hypnotising waves. He thought he would probably follow her anywhere.

She lets go of his hand abruptly before they entered the room and he felt the lost of contact acutely, his hand hanging limply by his side. Not knowing what to do, he stuck them in his pockets. She bounces into the choir room, her voice filled with confidence as she tells their teacher they had something to say. Mr Schue tells them to sit down and he was finally aware of the presence of others. She takes the seat next to Matt and he sits next to her, entirely too aware of her body next to his.

When Mr Schue talks about life having a lot of middle, he thought maybe that was okay so long as his middle was filled with Rachel Berry. Momentarily his mind strays away from thoughts of her when his teacher says he still believes in them. This was it. The defining moment. He remembers Mr Schue telling him once that life was a series of choices. Of combinations of moments that eventually add up to who you would become. He knew with certainty that this was one of them. He thought it was fitting that they approach Regionals armed with a Journey medley. It was the music that brought the club together. This Glee club made up of misfits and losers, each one just wanting a place to belong.

He remembers his life before Glee. A life where nobody could touch him, where he was golden and accepted by people he wasn't sure he even liked. A life where he was always content but never happy, constantly repressing himself from the music coursing through his veins. It was life without melody, without passion, without anything to stand up for. Empty. It was a life without Rachel Berry. He knows with absolute definiteness that whatever happens, however things go down, this club changed his life. It was the best thing that ever happened to him. He was going to see this through till the end, whatever that might be. And he was going to do his best, the best he has ever been.

She was beaming at him, and her happiness was infectious. He wasn't sure when it began. Didn't know exactly when it was that his feelings started to depend so much on Rachel Berry's. Maybe it was the first time they sang together. The first time they kissed. Or maybe it was the first time he broke her heart. Or the second. He knew with certainty though, that he was already too far gone the first time she broke his. Regardless, she is now weaved into every little part of his life, intertwined so completely with his every action, every thought, every feeling. He wondered if maybe this is what it means to be in love. He figured it wasn't so bad if it is.

They had four days to make it work, to become the best they could possibly be. Rachel Berry worked in superhuman mode. She choreographed the routine, helped him arrange the songs, chose the fabric for their uniform and hounded every member of the club within an inch of their lives. Nobody says anything this time. Nobody tries to slack off. This was just as important to every single person in Glee as it was to her. He thought he had never seen them work so well together before. She yells at Santana when the girl missed her cue and the cheerio merely nodded her head and began again. When practice was over he sees her walk over to the latino, a self-depracating frown on her face as she apologized. Santana had shrugged her shoulders and muttered "Whatever Berry,". Quinn almost tripped on her feet but he caught her just in time with a "Be careful" and an "Are you okay?". He even smiled at her soft and bewildered "Thanks". "Don't mention it" he had said. He had looked up and Rachel Berry was smiling at him from where she was. He wondered if the growth in all their relationships happened overnight or was a natural progression that went unoticed by everyone.

Ever since she kissed him on the stairwell, she began to sit next to him in the classes they shared together. That was about the extent of things moving forward in their relationship. It was slow, but he didn't really mind. He found that sitting beside her meant being sieged by the unmistakable scent of Rachel Berry and the scent was exhilarating, leaving residues on his shirt by the time whatever class was over. In the middle of the night when he turns out the light, he lies in his bed and remembers her scent, the comfort lulling him to sleep.

When the big day arrived, he woke up in the morning feeling disoriented, wondering why his heart was thumping crazily against his chest the moment he opened his eyes. He looked around the room and his gaze fell on the piece of paper he had tacked on the door. It was carelessly ripped out from his Math notebook, Regionals written in uneven block letters and underlined with a red marker. In the right hand corner, a small gold star shone brightly. He remembers her placing the sticker silently in class, when he finished underlining the word. He turned to see her smiling quietly, eyes to the front where Mr Goode was explaining about functions and derivatives and a multitude of terms he doesn't understand. He felt his face heat up with embarrassment. He didn't know she had been aware of what he was doing. He grinned at the memory and literally jumped out of bed, his adrenaline spiked to the maximum level. This was it. The final battle.

Everybody was a nervous wreck. On the bus ride to Regionals, Quinn and Mercedes were doing breathing exercises, while Puck looked on with boredom. But he saw the clenched jaw and the white knuckles and he knew this means something to his former (reestablished?) bestfriend. Tina and Artie sat quietly in the back, occasionally whispering softly to each other as they held hands and wore the same terrified expression on their faces. Kurt was doing vocal warm ups. Loudly. Brittany was imitating him, Santana rolling her eyes in the background. But a nervous smile was gracing her face. Matt had his eyes closed, as if in prayer, and Mike was vibrating. Literally, vibrating. His whole body was bobbing up and down uncontrollably to some beat that was invisible to everyone else. Even Mr Schue's face was white as the old man smiled encouragingly at him. And Rachel Berry. Rachel Berry was sitting beside him, her hands holding both of his in a death grip firmly on her lap. He wanted to brush back her hair or maybe pat her shoulder in comfort, but he couldn't because there was no way to release his hands from her hold. He didn't know what he was feeling. How does one describe feeling nauseated, light-headed, excited, ecstatic, terrified and happy in one word? Maybe if he was smarter he would know. Rachel Berry probably did but he thought it probably wasn't the right time to ask her. Maybe later. He remembers Sectionals and wondered what that ride was like.

The bus pulled up in the parking lot and nobody made a move to get off. Finally, he decided someone needed to lead the way. Tugging insistently, he forced her to follow his lead. They were the first to stand and make their way down the bus. She was still hanging on to him and he was beginning to lose the feeling of his left arm, but he wasn't letting go. Not this time. They made their way to their allotted room in a daze. He didn't know what happened between the bus and the room, only remembering her touch that was anchoring him to the ground.

Aural Intensity was a fucking ass licker and the energy in the room turned down visibly. Every single face looked depressed and Rachel Berry was trying to turn off the speakers before the stupid group did anymore damage to their team. But she was a midget and he almost smiled when she continuously jumped and failed to turn the knob. She tries to motivate them and he tried to help. Puck was glowering on the side. Mr Schue walked in and everything got better. The teacher said his dancing was going to give them and edge. He didn't really think he had improved all that much. But Mr Schue believed in every single one of them, and he'll be damned if he lets his favorite teacher down.

Their routine begins with a duet. They both stood outside the entrance of the auditorium, waiting for their cue. He wonders if all these thumping and wild beating his heart was doing could have him end up in an early death. He turns to look at Rachel Berry and she was wringing her hands together in anticipation. She turns to him and smiles and he remembers the scene at the stairwell, when he lost his mind in the feel of her body. He walks firmly over to her, wanting to feel the same sense of happiness, the same sense of joy. He wanted to make her feel the way she makes him feel. She meets him halfway, the shy smile on her lips changing into words he could barely hear. What was she saying? He didn't really know. His heart was drumming a solo at breakneck speed.

"I love you." Cymbals were crashing and ringing in his ears but he only paid attention to the way her eyes looked momentarily stunned, just like his last Monday at three in the afternoon. He walks back to his side of the door, his drumming heart receding into open snares on half time. Their cue was starting. He turns back to look at her and the smile on her face radiates the whole room and pierces through his entire body until he was certain he was glowing too. His smile was triumphant. They were going to kill this song. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door. This was it. Showtime.


	14. Making friends

Rachel Berry stares at herself in the mirror and sighs. Her new blouse, now soaked in slush, lies crumpled in the sink, the running water washing the purple stain away. She places each hand on opposite edges of the ceramic and grips tightly as she tries to collect herself.

_One. Two. Three._

She takes a deep breath, the last of her anxiety slipping away. She frowns at the smudge of purple against the white fabric of her bra. Propping her backpack on to the sink next to hers, she unzips the front pocket to retrieve her packet of moist towelettes.

By now, this has become routine. She doesn't even bother to change in one of the stalls anymore. By the time she recieved her tenth slushie to the face, finding Rachel Berry in her bra, vigorously rinsing artificial coloring out of her shirt, has become a common sight for the girls that stream in and out of the girls room by the school exit. It's the one nearest to her locker, which just happened to be the favorite spot for her tormentors. Today however, was different. Please, please, if there exists a higher power out there, _please _make it so he didn't see her. As she attempts to rub out the stain on her bra, she sighs again as she remembers the humiliating encounter.

_By the time the last school bell had rung, she had been in great spirits as she made her way to her locker. Their upcoming performance for the school is just days away, and the thought of glee rehearsal made her feel excited and nervous all at once. The choreography had been finalized and if her partner for the routine just happened to be the school's quarterback, well it was only fate working in her favor. She truly believed that the end result was going to blow their performance out of the water. Her peers will be lining up to get into glee club in no time, if everything were to go as planned. _

_The little skips in her steps came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the school hallway at the sight that greeted her. Five feet away was Quinn Fabray and the boy that had been invading her daydreams for weeks. Standing close together. She could only see his back from where she was, but from the way the perfect little blonde was giggling so superficially, Rachel knew that he must be smiling. Anybody who bothered to look could probably see the way her shoulders drooped immediately at the sight before her._

_Brown eyes met blue, and Rachel saw the smug look that passed through the cheerleader's face five seconds before Quinn had grabbed the back of his head to pull him down for a kiss. The girl's eyes were open as she stared pointedly at Rachel the whole time. The blow to her heart felt like a gunshot wound. She swallowed the gasp that threatened to come out and felt that familiar prickle in the back of her eyes. Rachel had looked away immediately, her gaze swerving to the freshman next to her who was cleaning out his locker. _

_Suddenly, feeling excited about a mere dance choreography felt like such a foolish thing to do. What was she thinking, allowing herself to be swept up by dreams of Finn Hudson and his beautiful smile? As she walked nearer towards the perfect couple, she kept her gaze firmly focused on the floor as she stared at the buckles on her shoes. Why did her locker have to be so close to Quinn's anyway._

_"Berry." Looking up was reflex, and thus she was greeted by freezing cold ice chips to the face. She stood surprised in the middle of the hallway, the syrup running down her face and making its way down her neck, into her shirt. _

_"Hey! Watch it!" the girl next to her had exclaimed angrily at the jock of the day. Some of the the drink must have spilled over on to her shoes or something. It wasn't until she heard the shrill and grating laughter coming from her bane of existence did Rachel become completely aware of where she was. She was still in the middle of the school hallway, her locker two feet away. And Finn was there. And Finn was going to see her, in all her mortifying glory. _

_Corn syrup seeped into her eyes as she looked up to find him with his back still facing her. Rachel could see from his stance that he was about to turn around. She made a beeline for the girls room just a few steps away. As she darted through the door, she was eternally grateful that she had rolled her bag in with her, complete with a clean shirt. The thought of having to go back out there to retrieve the blouse in her locker was too shameful to comprehend._

_She dragged her backpack towards the third sink as usual, the sound of rolling wheels accompanying her. Rachel stood in front of the mirror and stared at herself, watching the melting slush roll down her face towards the growing stain on her brand new blouse. She should have known wearing white to school was never a safe choice. It was going to take forever to wash it out. She absolutely despised the look on her face. She looked like a puppy that had just been kicked over. _

_She looked away. Rachel heaved a huge sigh and stood straight, puffing out her chest. So it was another slushie facial, so what? It takes more than a cheap drink to bring Rachel Barbara Berry down. Gingerly, she untucked the blouse out of her skirt and began to undo the buttons. She slipped out of the sticky attire and threw it into the basin with vehemence before turning on the tap. _

_She looked up into the mirror once more, and all the pep she had managed to instill in herself just a minute ago flew out the window._

And this is where she's standing still, looking at herself, the wet tissue gripped tightly in her hand. What was this, her fiftieth slushie facial? It's only Wednesday and she has already been slushied twice. One for every day of the week. Noah Puckerman. Dave Karofsky. And who was it today? She didn't get a good look. She was too busy forcing herself not to cry. It serves her right for having her head up in the clouds in the school hallway in the first place. Really, it's the one place on earth where she has to constantly be on her feet in case of flying ice and what did she do? Moon over Finn Hudson, that's what.

_You need to keep your eye on the bigger picture. Broadway. Fame. Fortune. Rabid fans from all over the world fawning over the best singer that has appeared in generations._ What is she doing getting caught up in juvenile high school problems, falling into unrequited love for the most popular boy in school? God, could she _be_ any more of a cliche? Cupping a handful of water, Rachel splashes it on to her face, wiping at her cheeks vigorously. She needs to get a grip. And soon. There's no time to wait for her shirt to dry. She's going to have to finish this later. Picking up the wet lump in the sink, she tries her best to wring the water out before stuffing it into a plastic bag.

She puts on the grey sweater she brought and straightens her posture in front of the mirror, her hands on her hips. Satisfied with the way she looks, she nods firmly to herself and zips up her bag. She's almost at the door when suddenly she remembers something else. Heaving another huge aigh of annoyance, Rachel rummages through her bag again to look for the thick black marker she had brought to school. She leaves her backpack by the door and walks briskly to the fourth stall, pushing the door open with her foot.

There it is.

Squaring her shoulders, she walks right up to the obscene caricature of herself and uncaps her marker. Whoever the artist was, the girl _seriously_ needs some art lessons. And a lesson in anatomy. She presses the pen with slightly more pessure than necessary on to the wood. Rachel colors over the picture furiously, the tips of her fingers turning white with the force of her grip. It's somewhat therapeutic, focusing all of her energy into making one huge black mark on the toilet wall. With one last exuberant stroke, she steps back to analyze her work. Satisfied that there was no trace of the horrendous artwork left, Rachel steps out of the stall and heads to the exit.

She gives it two days, max, before another one of those pictures pop up. That was the fourth drawing she'd had to black out thus far.

She's so immersed in her thoughts, she doesn't even realize the human wall standing right in front of the door until she literally walks into it. A pair of arms grab her shoulders to steady her as Rachel trips and squeals in surprise.

"Whoa. Sorry." She freezes. She could recognize that deep voice anywhere. She hears it in her dreams. She looks up, her eyes connecting with his worried, chocolate-brown orbs.

"Finn?" she squeaked. Instantly, the hands leave her and drops clumsily to his sides. "What are you doing here?" She looks around to look for any signs of Quinn Fabray. The hallway is empty.

"Are you okay? I- well, I saw what happened," he mumbles as he grabs the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Oh." She wishes more than anything that the ground would just open up right now, right at this very moment, and just swallow her whole. Because trying to look Finn Hudson in the eye after knowing that he had witnessed the humiliation that befell her, was close to impossible.

"Hey," he says, his voice regaining some confidence. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she mutters, still embarrassed, her face still highly inflamed.

"Oh. Good, I guess." She frowns as she realized that he had probably been waiting for her.

"How long have you been standing here?"

"Um.. I don't know. Since I saw you go in?"

"That was almost twenty minutes ago," she says, her pulse racing. He's been waiting for her?

"Yeah. I was uh- I was waiting for you to come out." She finally looks up at him and their proximity unnerves her. She doesn't think she's ever been this close to him before.

"Why?" she asks softly. He looks confused by her question.

"I wanted to see if you were okay."

"Why?"

"Why? Well." He grips the back of his neck again and looks at her, almost apprehensively. "Cause we're friends. Aren't we?"

"Friends," she repeats, staring at the stripes across his chest. The word sounds so foreign rolling of her tongue. "Friends," she says again. She likes how it sounds coming out of her mouth. She realizes that he's staring at her and looks up to find him looking at her like she just landed from Mars. But that's nothing new. It's how he always looks at her.

"Am I your friend Finn?" she asks, trying her best to look calm and composed. He looks almost afraid to say his next words.

"Yeah. I mean, I'm your friend right?"

"Right," she says, a grin exploding on her face. "You're my friend Finn."

"Yeah. Cool."

"Cool," she repeats, her heart blooming happily.

She has a friend. And it's Finn.

She's Finn's friend.

"So uh- are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm perfect," she says. She's still standing there, smiling up at him like a maniac, and he's starting to look a little freaked out. Forcing herself to get out of her Finn-induced bliss, Rachel clears her throat.

"We should get going," she says briskly as she turns and heads toward their choir room. "The performance is not going to choreograph itself." She hears his footsteps and struggles not to clap her hands gleefully as he falls in step with her.

"Hey Rachel," he says, putting a hand on her shoulder to stop her. She feels lightheaded at his touch and forces her heart to stay in her chest.

"Yes Finn?"

"I think you missed a spot."

"What?" she asks, confused. He reaches out towards her and suddenly he's touching her, his thumb gently grazing the top of her right ear.

She thinks her heart just stopped beating.

"Your ear's kind of purple," he says, his own ears turning red.

"Thank you," she whispers. He shrugs and smiles, the right side of his lips pulling upward. She wonders if all friends think about kissing their friends lips like she does.

She doesn't have a lot of experience in the department, but somehow she doubts it.


	15. Hazards of graduating

Finn Hudson was worried. He was aware he shouldn't be. It wasn't like it was two years ago, when he still had absolutely no forseeable future lined up for him. Compared to two years ago, Finn definitely carried a lighter weight on his shoulders (Although two years ago, he didn't even realizie there _was_ a weight on his back). He was going to college for one thing, which he had thought was impossible once. And he actually had a shot of shaking off his Lima Loser status now, which was something he'd been deathly afraid of his whole life, practically. But he couldn't help it. Finn Hudson was apprehensive.

It was all Puck's fault. If Finn had a dime for every crap that shot out of his bestfriend's mouth he'd be- well. A hell of a whole lot richer than he actually was, that was for sure. Admittedly, he used to fall for them pretty easy. Rachel said he was gullible, like that yellow fish in The Little Mermaid (Don't even ask him how that came up. He was too busy staring at Rachel's boobs and the way the thin material of her shirt clung to them in the rain. Okay, so maybe tagging along with Puck on his spy mission to scope out Quinn's new guy had been a stupid thing to do, especially since Puck essentially drove his car straight into a tree when he thought he saw the girl looking in the rearview mirror. Dude missed the dirt road by about six feet to the left. He totally had a bump on his head the size of a fist when it had hit the dashboard. But it ended with Rachel driving a good twenty miles to get to him, and forgetting her little pink, sparkly raincoat in all that worry. Hence, the shirt clinging to boobs thing, which was totally awesome. Except for the fact that Puck was around. But the jackass was totally concussed so it didn't really matter.).

He got better at deflecting his friend's crazy schemes though, and he was less inclined to believe Puck's bullshit these days. But seriously, the dude had a legitimate point. Finn wasn't so sure about the statistics thing, because if it happened to fifty percent of the graduating class, wouldn't there be some sort of warning about it already? Like maybe, Throwing Graduation Caps in the Air Might Cause Serious Head Trauma? But he could see the dude's point. The longer he thought about it, the more he realized that he was going to get into a freak accident that would poke his eye out.

Finn was a clumsy dude, yeah. But he was also really, really unlucky when it came to things like this. Half of the stuff that happened to him, he didn't even think could happen to any other normal human being. Who else could bite into a cookie and have a small crumb fly up into his eye and almost blind him? If those Final Destination flicks were real life, he'd totally be one of the dudes that got snuffed out by dental floss or whatever.

So yeah, Finn Hudson was worried. Because Puck told him that every year, when those graduating suckers throw their caps happily into the air, it would hit someone in the face and cause serious damage.

"Know Greg Robertson? He went to college with an eyepatch. Swear to God and my mom's kosher burgers, they called him The Dead Pirate Robertson for a whole year." Yeah. There was no way Finn could ever rock an eyepatch.

Rachel told him he was being ridiculous. They were in her room and he was sitting on the edge of her bed while she stood in front of him with her hands on her hips. She said the ritual of throwing your graduation cap into the air signified your freedom from high school and the carefree attitude with which to approach all the new possibilities that life could offer. She went on to tell him that to not do so was a blasphemy and a sacrilege to all that is holy about high school graduations. Well, he'd rather blasphere (blaspheme? Blasphemere? Whatever.) and sacrilege the life out of it than end up with an eyepatch, thank you very much.

"Are you sure we're really talking about graduation?" she had asked gently as she stood in between his legs and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Uh, yeah?" He was sure they had repeated that word like a million times in the past hour. Rachel really needed to get with the program. She sat on his right leg and stared at him apprehensively.

"Are you sure you're not projecting Finn?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked, confused.

"Well what I'm trying to say is that I know graduation is coming really soon, and that after this, things are going to change. We'll be going to college in different states, and we'll be meeting new people, live a completely new and as of yet unknown life. I'm just wondering if maybe you're channeling all of your worries and doubts into this issue of graduation caps." Finn stared at his girlfriend like she just spoke in French. How in the world did she get all _that_ out of _anything_ he had been saying?

"Rach," he said slowly. "I'm pretty sure I'm just talking about those graduating caps being dangerous little mofos." She rolled her eyes and sighed like she didn't believe him. Seriously. He wasn't even thinking about all the things she said. He didn't like the thought of thinking about it so he just avoided doing it. Because thinking about life after graduation meant thinking about leaving not only home, (Which he had been dying to do ever since he realized that Lima was basically Loser Central.) but also Rachel (Which he didn't really want to do. Like, ever.).

Okay so he had thought about it a little bit. It was all Puck's fault again. If he hadn't told him about those graduating caps poking people's eye out, he wouldn't be thinking about eyepatches that had led him to thinking about all of his accidents in his life. And how those accidents stopped being so bad once Rachel was around, and she would bake him her awesome banana bread so he'd get better soon. And thinking about Rachel's banana bread made him think about those super amazing Double chocolate, chocolate chip cookies that she makes just for him because she knew how much he loved chocolate even though she kept telling him how all that fat was clogging up his arteries (But she makes them for him anyway).

And then that had made him think of how when they're both in colleges that were eight hours apart, he wouldn't be able to smell her banana bread first thing when he wakes up from a concussion or how his arteries would stop being clogged up by all that chocolatey goodness because Rachel wouldn't be around. And that would make him think about how he wouldn't be able to just see her anytime he wanted to and he'd think about that time the year before, when she went for that art's program in New York for a whole month and he was totally miserable without her. And that was the point where he just forced himself to stop thinking about it.

Whatever. That so wasn't the point. The point was that graduation caps were dangerous suckers and that he wasn't throwing his in the air for _anything_.

So when graduation day finally arrived, while Suzy Pepper gave her Valedictorian speech (That Suzy Pepper was a really weird chick. But she must be super smart or something, because Rachel was pretty damn smart and she totally beat her for the Valedictorian post. Which, Rachel was still totally PMS-ing over, by the way.), Finn decided that he was totally going to keep his head down when the time came.

So when the time did come and he was in the middle of all his classmates, his hand firmly grasping Rachel's so that they wouldn't get torn apart in the shuffle, he had kept his eyes firmly trained on the ground while everyone else around him was whooping and yelling and as a rain of mortarboards fell around his feet. He felt Rachel's hand trembling with excitement the whole time and grinned to himself. That girl was just a whole bundle of perkiness. He didn't look up until Rachel had tugged on his hand.

"You're safe now," she told him, her voice amused. "All caps have landed." Gingerly, Finn had looked up and gave her his best lopsided grin. Rachel was smiling up at him, her hair matted flat against her forhead. He ruffled them playfully and she slapped his hand away with a mocking sigh.

"We've got our diplomas," he told her.

"Yes we have," she answered, the little hitch in the casual tone of her voice betraying her giddiness.

"High school can go suck it!"

"Finn!"

Apparently there had been no catastrophe. No eye had been poked out in the event of the cap throwing. Puck really needed to work on his data collecting skills. They made their way over to their group of friends, Rachel running towards Tina, finally unleashing all her pent up squealing. He fist-bumped Artie and stood next to a smirking Puck.

"You fell for it, didn't ya?"

"Whatever," Finn muttered. Who's to say it woudn't have been his eye that would have gotten reamed if he had looked up?

"Okay beautiful people, line up!" Kurt yelled as he shoved a camera into Burt's hand. "Dad take a picture of us!"

"Of course," Burt answered sarcastically at his son who was already taking his place in between Mercedes and Quinn.

"How about a reenactment of the best part of graduation? Throw those little suckers into the air for effect. Mortarboards. I meant mortarboards," he amended when Finn's mom pinched his shoulder. Finn stifled a groan. Not again. Was he never going to get out of this graduation unscathed? Rachel giggled next to him and he glared at her.

"You think getting my eye poked out is funny huh?" he mumbled under his breath as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in closer.

"You're being ridiculous Finn," she whispered back in amusement. "Nothing's going to happen. Hundreds of caps just sailed through the air not ten minutes ago and everyone is perfectly safe. Come one baby, you don't want to miss this and regret it for the rest of your life. This practice is an essential rite of passage in the American way of life!" He stared at her doubtfully as Rachel looked up at him with those huge brown eyes, batting her eyelashes for full effect. Finn sighed.

"Fine. But if I lose my eye and people start calling me Dead Pirate Hudson, it's all on you."

"I'll be your caretaker for life," she promised.

"Geez would you two stop it with your vomit-inducing cuteness?" Mercedes called out. "We're all waiting here!"

Damn Rachel Berry and her ability to make him do things he didn't want to.

"One!" He grabbed the tip of his mortarboard.

"Two!"Rachel squeezed his hand tightly as he pulled it off his head.

"Three!" He threw it into the air and grinned at the camera. He had thrown the cap behind him, just in case. He knew there was no one there. He checked. He heard a yelp and Rachel yanked her hand out of his grip as the flash blinded his eyes.

Finn turned to see Rachel with her hands over her face, screaming a surprising string of expletives that both alarmed him and turned him on at the same time.

"Rach? Babe?" he called worriedly as he he gently grabbed her wrists. Everybody else was crowding around them, all staring at Rachel in surprise. "Are you okay?" She mumbled something incoherent, her hands firmly gripping half her face no matter how hard he pulled. Finn vaguely heard "Stupid" and "My freaking eye" before he put two and two together and his eyes widened. Finn looked down at the ominous graduation cap on on the ground next to her feet. He _knew_ those things were evil.

"Baby," he said soothingly as Rachel continued her inchorent tirade. "You need to let me see your face. C'mon, let me look at it." He felt her hands slacken and gently pulled them down by the wrists.

The whole group had gasped simultaneously (They were nothing if not well choreographed). Finn winced and hissed under his breath as he saw the angry red swells around her left eye. Tears were streaming down Rachel's face and he knew she was completely humiliated by the fact that everyone was around.

"Girl, you need to see a doctor," Mercedes said in a low voice. Rachel sniffled in agreement.

"Make way guys," he ordered as Burt tossed him the car keys. Finn wrapped one hand around her shoulder and led her towards his car. He wondered where her parents went, but figured he probably didn't have time to look for them. He sped to the clinic as quickly as he could because the moment they Rachel stepped into the car, she had been a blubbering mess and it made him nervous because she looked like she was in real pain and there was nothing he could do about it.

An image of Rachel with an eyepatch popped up in his head, and he had to bite the insides of his mouth to keep from laughing.

Turned out Rachel didn't need an eyepatch after all. She had been hit by the edge of the cap, but it had nailed her temple, just a few inches away from her eye so she was safe. But there was going to be a nasty bruise there for a while. The doctor had told them that she just needed to ice it so he brought her home where her daddy had frantically grabbed a bag of peas and shoved it in her hands. Hiram made her promise to keep that thing on her face for at least another thirty minutes. Finn was pretty sure that he was being a little too dramatic but he kept his trap shut.

So there he was, sitting next to Rachel on the bed as she laid there morosely, gently holding the bag of frozen peas over her eyes.

"I can't believe this is happening," she grumbled and crossed her arms angrily. He grinned.

"It's okay baby," he said soothingly as he brushed back her hair with his other hand.

"We have dinner tomorrow night. I'm going to look ridiculous!"

"It's just a little bruise."

"Finn, people are going to think that we're in an abusive relationship." Good point.

"Well," he said slowly. "You could always wear an eyepatch." She glared at him with her good eye and winced in pain.

"I'm kidding."

"It's not funny." He glanced at the clock on her wall.

"Thirty minute's up," he announced as he pulled the bag away.

"How bad is it?" she asked sadly. The swelling had gone down, but her eye was squinting a little and he could already see the bruise start to purple. She looked a little pathetic, to be honest.

"You'll live," he announced instead, as he planted a soft kiss carefully on her cheek.

"Lie down with me?" she requested hopefully.

"Uh I don't know Rachel. Your dad's kinda downstairs-"

"Please?" What the heck.

"Move over." She beamed at him, the swollen eye falling into a slit, as she scooted a little to the left to give him space. He took off his shoes and the tie he had loosened earlier before he laid down next to her. Rachel lifted her head as he slid his arm under it and dropped it on her shoulder. They laid quietly side by side for minutes. Just as he was about to sleep, Finn felt her move against him.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"It'll be okay. Right?" Somehow he knew she was talking about more than just that bruise on her eye. This was about them. And he really didn't know. But he hoped. And hope was the next best thing, right?

"Yeah Rach," he whispered as he tightened his hold around her. "We'll be okay."


	16. of expletives and emotional wellbeings

"My mother wants a family." She said this so quietly that for a moment he thought he was just imagining it. He looked down at the girl in his arms. All he could see was the top of her head that seemed determined not to look up.

"Shelby Corcoran?" Almost imperceptibly, he could feel her nod against his chest. They were sprawled together on the couch in her living room, watching the television screen aimlessly. In reality, he was just reveling in the fact that finally, _finally_, they got to this point, where he could hold her, just like that.

"At regionals, while you were at the hospital, I went see her. She told me."

"That's a good thing, right?" She was silent. "It's not a good thing?" he tried again.

"She doesn't want _me_." _Oh_. His hold on her tightened deliberately.

"Rach..." he found he had nothing to say. He desperately wished he was better at this. At all these _feelings_, at expressing them or at least at knowing the right thing to say. But he was always awkward and clumsy, forever just _fumbling_ through his words. His shirt felt wet and he knew she was crying. Her face was practically smushed into his chest by now and her hands were gripping the back of his shirt like a lifeline. Her body felt tense, like a string pulled to its limit. She was holding back the shudders and the sobs and the hiccups and was just like a stone in his arms, her tears the only sign of life. That, he understood all too perfectly. The tight reign on emotion, the restraint from completely breaking down. He understood _that_ all too well.

"Sometimes people just suck," he said, kissing the top of her head. "Sometimes you give them everything you got, and all they do is let you down. Like they don't even notice you there, putting everything on the line." Guilt was _enormous_. He was '_people'_. He did this to her too. Numerous times. Over and over. And he couldn't help but wonder how many times she had done this, this restraining and reigning herself in, because of him.

"You're better than all of us. Fuck us all. I'm sorry, Rachel." He said this last line as a whisper, the guilt almost choking him.

He heard, before he felt her start to unravel. The loud intake of breath that seemed to rip through her whole body as she started to shake profusely in his arms.

"I- I- .." She was gasping, tying to fill her lungs with air as he held her tighter, trying to subdue her. "I can't- why? Why doesn't she want me?" He felt her pain rip through his chest.

"She doesn't deserve you." He pulled back and brought a hand to her jaw, guiding her face to him. Her eyes were puffy, her gaze directed to somewhere on his left. "Look at me," he said softly. She met his gaze. "You don't need her, Rachel. You've never needed her." He saw the slight tremble of her lips as she furiously wiped her tears away with her fist.

"I just want to know her. I want her to know me." She sighed and laid her head back on his chest.

"Maybe it's for the best. Maybe if she knew me she wouldn't like me. Maybe-"

"Maybe she's just a bitch," he offered nonchalantly. Her head snapped up immediately.

"_Finn!_ You called my mother a bitch!"

"Am I wrong?" He saw the left side of her lips pull slightly into an almost smile.

"Probably not," she answered, barely contained spite lacing her words. She sounded so unlike Rachel at that moment, it almost alarmed him. Her words were never filled with venom, not even when he had hurt her. He couldn't comprehend the amount of hurt she went through, couldn't possibly know what it was like to be rejected by your own flesh and blood.

Sometimes it was just better to just give in to your basic emotions. Get angry. Screw reason.

"Say it."

"What?"

"Shelby Corcoran is a bitch!"

"I can't say that!" she gasped. They were both upright by now, and Rachel was looking at him, appalled.

"Say it Rachel. Shelby Corcoran is a fucking bitch. Come on, you know you want to." She shook her head empathically, but she was smiling. It was odd, telling her to cuss out the woman who gave birth to her. But Finn thought calling Shelby a bitch was nothing if you take into account the horrible way she had roped Rachel in, only to throw her away once she was hooked.

"Resorting to degrading slurs is not a healthy way to express one's emotion," she replied primly. _Aaand she's back_! He grinned.

"Sure it is. Shelby Corcoran is a fucking bitch. It expressed my emotion perfectly." She was giggling. "Please Rachel? For me?". Rachel looked at him hesitantly. He gave her an encouraging smile.

"Shelby- I can't!"

"Yes you can! Ra-chel! Ra-chel! Ra-chel!" He completed his chant with fist-pumps, hollering her name at the top of his lungs.

"Shelbycorcoranisabitch!" she whispered furiously, her face red. Finn cupped his ear and leaned closer.

"What?"

"You heard me!"

"No I didn't." She stamped her foot, and he laughed out loud. Rachel jumped to her feet, her eyes flashing.

"Shelby. Corcoran. Is. A. Bitch." she whipered the words slowly, staring him dead in the eyes.

"Louder."

"Shelby Corcoran is a bitch."

"Are you _kidding_ me? With your set of lungs? C 'mon Rachel!"

"Shelby Corcoran is a bitch!" she shouted, her eyes closed.

"Once more with feeling!"

"SHELBY CORCORAN IS A FUCKING BITCH!" Her face was red and her eyes were scrunched closed tightly as she yelled at the top of her lungs. He wondered what she would do if he pulled her to him at that very moment and kissed her senseless. He opted for a loud whoop instead, as he stood up and twirled her around, barely missing the coffee table.

"That's my girl!" She was laughing and he was laughing too, and they were both so ridiculously filled with joy and he didn't even know why.

"That was awesome!" she squealed once he put her down.

"You're awesome," he replied, not caring that it was probably the cheesiest thing that ever came out of his mouth. Judging from the look she was giving him, she didn't care either. They settled back on the couch, back to their prior position and returned their attention to the television screen and watched in contented silence.

Five minutes later, he heard her sniffle. He wrapped his arms tighter around her and kissed her temple, his hands rubbing her back in slow, gentle circles.

That week at school, Kurt told him that Shelby Corcoran was now Drizzle's mom. He felt her tense beside him and he tightened his hold on her hand. It seemed from Kurt's expression, he realized his insensitive mistake because he refrained from insulting her for the rest of the school day. Finn felt his heart constrict at the thought of Drizzle with a woman who had no qualms in severing ties with her actual daughter.


	17. Change

Rachel Berry was in his room. On his bed. Talking about a dress. It wasn't the whole her being in his room thing that was weird. Or even on his bed thing. No. It was the talking about the dress thing that was kind of making him uncomfortable. Probably because she was describing, in a painfully detailed manner, the dress she was going to wear to his mom's wedding. Yeah. You heard that right. His mom's WEDDING.

It wasn't like he didn't see it coming. His mom and Burt and practically everyone else had been dropping anvil-sized hints on his head long before it was official. And in a way, he was kind of glad that the whole calling Kurt's things faggy thing and getting kicked out of the house thing hadn't led to their parents breaking up. Because his mom was happy. Like really, really happy in a way that Finn had never seen her before. She was singing all the freaking time now. Even in the shower. His mom was so not the kind of person who sang like, _anywhere_.

And Burt was totally cool. It had been weird for a while after the whole Kurt-debacle (That's what Rachel calls it. Debacle. Like it was some sort of major disaster or something. Which it kind of was.). But they were dudes. All they needed was a mutual hatred for the blind referee at the Sox game and everything was a-okay. And maybe some awkward apologies here and there. But they were cool.

But see, the thing was, it had always just been the two of them. That was just the way it was. Just Carole and Finn Hudson. He had known that since he was four. The two of them, they didn't always get to catch a break. In fact, it was probably the other way around.

When he was five, his mom had dated this dude who worked for Mr Bradley (this other dude she used to work for), Matt or Mitch or something. He remembered cause Matt/Mitch had a car and for maybe a month, Finn never had to wait for his mom's bus after school. But then after a month, he had woken up one Saturday morning because somebody was screaming bloody murder and scared him half to death. Of course the first thing he thought about was his mom, so he scrambled out of bed yelling for her at the top of his lungs. He found her in front of their doorway, eyes wide as some woman practically poked her eye out, shrieking things like "homewrecker" and "easy whore". He didn't kow what those words meant, but he knew it wasn't good because his mom was five seconds away from crying. He had stepped closer to her, and held on to her pajama bottom and when that woman saw him, well it wasn't pretty.

"Your mother is whore boy, and-" He didn't get to know and what because that was when his mom slammed the door in the woman's face. Finn wanted to ask his mom what a whore was, but he figured it wasn't such a good idea because his mom had grabbed his shoulders painfully and her eyes were kind of crazy, which scared him a little.

"It's just the two of us Finn," she said quietly, her voice quivering. "Just the two of us." A tear fell from her left eye then, and Finn had wiped it away because that was what she always did when he scraped his knees and cried like a girl. That was when his mom lost it.

She had to look for another job. He never saw Matt/Mitch again after that.

An then there was Darren (He was a total loser now that Finn thought about it). When he was eleven, Darren was the coolest guy on earth. Darren knew how to play the drums, and he gave Finn really, really cool music like Journey and the Grateful Dead and he was just wicked awesome. Finn never had a dad. His bestfriend Puck had one, but Finn never saw him so it was kind of like he didn't either. But he thought Darren would probably be a cool dad, maybe. He seemed to make his mom happy too. That was good. But then one day he drove by their house with the lady from Pick 'N' Save and his mom threw the milk they just bought at his car and Finn knew he was never going to see Darren again.

After Darren, his mom never brought any other guy home. She never even dated anyone. She used to, before Darren. Finn was secretly glad. He didn't like it when she went on dates cause he had to stay home alone, with his neigbour occasionally sticking her head through the window to look out for him. And she always came back smelling funny when she kissed his cheek and tucked him in.

So five years later when his mom suddenly told him she was seeing Kurt's dad of all people, Finn had a mini freak-out. He was just so used to it being just the two of them. Plus, it was _Kurt's_ dad and Kurt was totally freaking him out with all his talk about moving in and marriage and stuff. He just found out his mom was _dating_, and suddenly it was _serious_? Her selling all their furniture didn't help much. It was like she was trying to make over her life or something. And that scared him a little. Because he liked her old life. It was his life too.

He got over it. He had to, because he could see that Burt really loves his mom and well, what kind of a douchebag son would he be if he didn't? And having Burt around was cool, if a little weird. He never had a grown up dude to talk about all his sports stuff with. And Burt took him to games and let him come over to watch them on his big television and he really knew what he was talking about. He even took Finn to his workshop and let him mess around with all the tools and stuff. It was awesome.

He knew the moment his mom took that blindfold off him and he saw Burt standing there with the nervous smile on his face and Kurt's creepy beam, that it was never going to be just the two of them anymore. And that really sucked. And it made him miss his dad. Which was funny, since he never knew the man. But it was okay to miss him before cause she missed him too and they could just miss him together. And when they moved in with the Hummels, he figured he was probably going to miss his dad alone from then on. And that-

Rachel was totally tugging on his arm like crazy. Finn looked up at her from where he was lying on his bed and she looked back at him, eyes full of concern. His head was on her lap. Rachel Berry's lap was a very comfortable place to rest your head. At least he thought so anyway.

"Where are you Finn?" she asked softly, one hand grazing his cheek. "You've been distant lately."

"I'm right here," he answered, trying to muster up a smile as he grabbed a hold of her hand. Something in the way she was looking at him made him turn away. He turned into her stomach instead, staring at the shapes of the argyle pattern on her sweater. Finn heard her sigh.

"No you're not. You're here but your mind is miles away. You've been like this for almost two weeks now. Was it something I did?" The small way her voice sounded at her last sentence made him sit up straight and turn to face her.

"_No_," he answered quickly, taking her hand. "Rach it has nothing to do with you. You're awesome." She smiled at him and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

"So what does it pertain to then?" she asked. He couldn't help thinking that she just tricked him into something.

"Nothing," he answered, looking away. She sighed.

"Finn. You know you can tell me anything. Anything at all. I don't like it when you're upset and you obviously are. I'm a horrible girlfriend if I can't even make the person I love feel better."

"You're not a horrible girlfriend," he answered, a lopsided smile on his face. "You're totally cool."

"Apparently not cool enough," she answered coolly. He knew she was trying to trick him again. Finn was slow most of the time, but catching on to Rachel Berry and her tricks were one of the things he was good at.

"Can we just not talk about this?" He saw her lips pursed in dissatisfaction, both hands on her hips.

"Fine." He breathed a sigh of relief. "But am I allowed to make a deductive guess?"

"A what?"

"I'll ask you a question and you have to be honest. And then if I'm right I'll know what's wrong because you need to talk about it Finn, whatever it is. But you obviously don't want to. This way you won't have to. I'll just guess." What was this? Twenty questions? Finn sighed wearily, knowing there was no chance in hell she was going to let up. Well, he might as well make himself comfortable.

"Fine," he answered as he tugged on her hand and pulled her towards him. Rachel lost her balance and almost fell on his lap, which was the general idea. But she caught herself on time and with a mocking glare at him, sat primly on his crossed legs. He put his arms around her waist and pulled her in closer, taking in a whiff of her shampoo. He loved the smell. It had a calming effect on him.

"So," she began as she leaned back against his shoulder.

"So" he reciprocated mockingly.

"You're upset, yes?"

"Uh-huh."

"And it's not with me."

"Yep."

"Is it Glee?"

"Nope."

"Are those unfortunate souls from the football team giving you a hard time?"

"Nope."

"Is it- Finn stop trying to distract me."

"I'm not distracting you." He really wasn't. He just felt like kissing her neck. It wasn't his fault she couldn't pay attention.

"Does it have anything to do with that C+ you received for Biology?" He snorted at that. "Of course. What was I thinking?" she answered sarcastically. He swept all of her hair over one shoulder and kissed the base where her skull met her ear. He could feel her squirm and bit back a smile.

"You're doing that on purpose," she whispered, annoyed.

"Nuh-uh."

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"Is this about your mom?" He knew she could feel him freeze. Finn said nothing as he laid his forehead against her shoulder. "It is, isn't it?" she asked softly, her hands squeezing his arm. He shrugged. "Is it about the wedding?"

He tightened his arm around her waist and burrowed his head further into her shoulder. She said nothing after that. Rachel's hands met at his at the base of her stomach and took both of them in hers as she squeezed them tightly. They stayed in that position in silence for maybe five minutes.

"She's going to be Carole Hummel now," he muttered into her shoulder. "That's weird. It's like my mom doesn't have the same last name as me anymore. I'm Finn Hudson and she's Carole Hummel. And if people didn't know us, they wouldn't know she was my mom. Or that I'm her son." Rachel didn't say a word. She just squeezed his hands tighter.

"It was just the two of us, you know? And now it won't be. I don't know Rach. It's just- it's just _weird_, you know?"

"You don't want the wedding to happen?" she asked quietly, turning her body around to face him. He thought about it. She was playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. It was a little distracting.

"It's not that," he finally answered, surprised that it was the truth. "I just miss the way things used to be. I liked my life, you know? I loved my house too, even my ugly ass cowboy wallpaper. And I'm never going to see those things again."

"And you miss your mom?" she asked quietly, her gaze boring into his.

"You make me sound like such a girl," he mumbled, his face warm and beet red. Rachel laughed softly and pinched his cheek. "Ow!"

"You're cute, you know that?" she asked affectionately. He grinned.

"I've heard rumors, yes."

"Your mom is still your mom Finn. I've seen the way she looks at you. It's like," She stopped talking, her face scrunched up in concentration as she tried to find the right words. He grinned. She was cute when she did that. Her face brightened and she opened her eyes to look at him. "It's like you're the brightest thing in her world. I don't think that's going to change because she's getting married. Or because she's changing her last name. It's still the two of you, you know. Only now sometimes there's going to be four. But in a good way." she smiled brightly at him, satisfied with her answer. Finn grinned and kissed the corner of her mouth affectionately.

"Thank you doctor," he teased. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious!"

"So am I," he answered quietly. She looked him in the eyes and smiled softly. It was ridiculous how beautiful she was when she smiles. Rachel circled her arms around his neck and pulled her towards him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I love you Finn," she mumbled, squeezing the life out of him.

"I love you too, Therapist. C'mon. Your session totally made me hungry."

**XXX**

She called him at approximately ten p.m.. Just as he was about to hit the bed. The wedding was the next day and everyone was ordered to hit the haystacks early. Everyone actually in the wedding anyway. The wedding planner was kind of a dictator. She was scary.

"Hey babe," he answered easily as he sat on the edge of his bed.

"Can you come out?" was her answer.

"Now?" he frowned.

"Yes. Is that possible? Please?" Like she even needed to beg. Rachel Berry trumps going to sleep any day of the week.

"Gimme ten minutes. I need to get past Rebecca. That woman is _crazy_."

"Wear something warm okay? It's cold outside." He smiled. Finn changed into his jeans and customary stripes, throwing on his jean jacket for good measure. He sneaked out the back door because Rebecca, the wedding planner, was totally standing on guard in the living room. He found her car parked two houses down and grinned as he made his way towards her. Rachel was singing something, at the top of her lungs, judging by the dramatic expressions on her face. He knocked on the window and heard her surprised shriek. Struggling not to laugh, he opened the passenger door and got in.

"Fun song?"

"Just a little Celine Dion," she answered as she leaned over to kiss him.

"So, what are we doing?" Rachel was rummaging through her bag, looking for something. She took out a piece of cloth triumphantly.

"Turn around."

"Why?" he asked dubiously.

"Just do as I say," she replied stubbornly. "Turn around." Finn did as he was told.

"Uh you're not driving me out into the woods to chop me up, are you?" he joked nervously as she gently grabbed a hold of his head.

"Maybe," was her short answer.

"Seriously, what are you doing?"

"We're going somewhere."

"Where?"

"It's a surprise."

"I don't like being surprised when I'm blindfolded." he grumbled as she settled the sheet over his eyes. The last time that happened, he found himself in a new home. Suffice it to say being blindfolded had never been a good experience for him.

"You'll like this one," she answered confidently. He felt the car start to move. The darkness made him sleepy. Rachel was still singing. But he guessed she changed the CD or something. She was singing the soundtrack to West Side Story. He fell asleep listening to her crooning 'Tonight'.

She shook him awake and he panicked a little when he couldn't see anything. Until he remembered that she had blindfolded him. Rachel held his arm firmly as she guided him to wherever it was they were going to. He heard her turn a lock and guessed it was probably a building.

"We're not breaking in to school are we?" he asked.

"No Finn we are not. Why would I bring you to school?" He could hear the confusion in her voice and shrugged. It wouldn't be any weirder than wherever it was they were. The steps they were taking felt familiar to him for some reason. He almost tripped when they were walking up the stairs. Rachel had surprising strength. She hissed at him worriedly to be careful. He heard the creak of a door opening and Rachel gently pushed him.

"We're here," she said softly. "Close your eyes." He did as he was told. He felt her small hands untying the knot at the back of his head, her hands brushing over his hair gently. "Okay," she said with thinly veiled excitement in her voice. "Open!"

He did.

And was greeted with cowboy wallpaper.

Cowboys all over the wall. Finn squinted in confusion, his eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness. They were in his old room. The light came from a few candles scattered on the floor and there was a large blanket and what looked like a sleeping bag next to it. He turned to look at her. Rachel's face was expectant, nervousness etched over her features.

"What? How?" He was baffled. "How did you- The keys are with the realtor," he finally said. She smiled at him brightly.

"I may have bribed him with my famous sugar cookies." He gave her a doubtful look. "Okay, also a hundred dollars," she admitted. He grinned at her.

"Why are we here, exactly?" he asked curiously. She walked slowly over to him and took his hands.

"Well," she began almost bashfully. "You told me you missed your room. And tomorrow your life is going to change. It's going to be different right?" He nodded. Why was she acting so shy? Rachel looked down, letting her hair fall over her face to hide it. "I figured we could bridge that gap. Bring something new into the old, in preparation for something newer, as it were."

"What do you mean?" he asked, tucking her hair behind her ears and forcing her to look up. Rachel's face was like a tomato. A really red tomato.

"You know," she began slowly. "We never talked about... _it_"

"It?"

"You know... _it_."

"What-" His eyes widened considerably. Finn felt like it might roll out of his sockets at any moment. "_It_ it?" She nodded her head in embarrassment. Wait. He was still confused.

"We're talking about sex, right?" Rachel rolled her eyes, momentarily annoyed before she started to blush again.

"Yes Finn, we are," she mumbled. You could have knocked him over with a feather. The bizarreness of the situation competely boggled him. The last time they almost did_ it _was almost three months ago, and he had screwed it up by mentioning his dirty deed with Santana Lopez. She forgave him, but hell would have frozen over before she even mentioned the word sex after that. He didn't really mind. Well, of course he did, but he had spent months waiting for Quinn and the one time he did actually have sex, he felt like shit. He figured waiting for Rachel would be about the most worthwhile thing he could ever do.

"You-" He had yet to find where his speech ability went. Rachel was looking at him, red in the face. But her eyes were defiant. "You want to do _it_? Here?" She nodded her head firmly.

"Can we please stop calling _it_ it?" she asked, embarrassed.

"You want to get down and dirty here?"

"_Finn_!" she yelled, attempting to slap his arm. He laughed as he grabbed her hand to stop her. She struggled before realizing that it was futile and allowed him to embrace her, sighing witheringly.

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly. He felt her nod against his chest. Finn knew she could hear his heart beating about a bajillion times faster than any normal human being's. It was like the organ was trying its best to break out of his chest and run screaming or something.

"I'm ready. Really. And you don't have to worry," she said, her voice taking on her customary brisk, Rachel-Berry-is-in-charge tone. "I came prepared." She paused in hesitation. "I was too embarrassed to say anything and you never talk about it-"

"I was waiting for you."

"You were?" she asked hesitantly.

"Duh Rachel," he answered affectionately, ruffling her hair. She looked up at him and beamed.

"Anyway, I felt like this was the perfect moment. This could be the last memory you have in your old room. Something new. A happy change."

"Everything has to be some big metaphor for you, doesn't it?" he asked fondly, grinning down at her.

"Of course. Metaphors are-"

"Important." She giggled, rubbing her face into his shirt.

"Precisely."

"So," he began, the back of his neck feeling warm all of a sudden. Finn let go of her to tug at the collar of his shirt. It was _hot_ in his old room. He held out his hand for her to take. They stared at each other in silence, their eyes filled with anticipation. Her face broke out into a brilliant smile as she took his hand.

**XXX**

He woke up with a start to find sunlight streaming in through the window. He groaned as he felt the creak in his neck and tried to move his arm to block the blinding light. He couldn't. Finn looked down in confusion and found a head resting quietly, connected to a pair of arms tightly circled around his own. He looked down and all at once the memory of the night before came skidding into his brain. He just had sex. _Sex_. Screw that. He just had _sex_ with _Rachel Berry_. He grinned crazily as he took a deep breath and the smell of her shampoo filled his lungs.

He held up his head just a little to look at her. Rachel Berry was naked and in his arms. It was hands down, the best thing he had ever woken up to in all his almost seventeen years of life. She stirred in her sleep. He wanted her to wake up so she could see how amazing this morning was too. Finn poked a finger in her ear. She growled in her sleep and slapped his finger away. He struggled not to laugh as he poked her neck, tickling it just a little. Rachel Berry moaned and turned in his arm to face him. Their positions were seriously, _seriously_ dangerous. Finn blew into her face and pinched her nose. Her eyes flew open in panic as she slapped his hand for the second time. Her eyes cleared up as she stared at him.

"Finn!"

"Good morning," he said, raising an eyebrow at her playfully. She sat up in a flash, unfortunately remembering to take the blanket with her. Her hair was all over the place. He caught sight of the bruise at the back of her neck as she turned and felt a burst of pride puffing up his chest. He did _it_ with Rachel Berry.

"Did we?" she asked timidly as she avoided his gaze, still trying to find her bearings.

"We did."

"_Oh_." she squeaked. Swiftly, she laid back down next to him, effectively hiding her face into his chest. "This is awkward," she mumbled.

"I think it's pretty awesome," he said, his grin not letting up. She held up her head to look at him.

"Really?"

"Are you kidding me? That was like, the best thing ever." She smiled then, propping her head up by her elbows. They kind of dug into his ribs a little, but Finn hardly felt the pain. He was too busy being aware that Rachel was practically lying on top of him. _Naked_.

"It was kind of amazing."

"It was mind-blowing." They grinned stupidly at each other. He felt like he could run down the street buck naked and yell at everyone who would listen that he just had _sex!_ And yes, it was with _Rachel Berry_!

"What is it?" he asked when she suddenly frowned.

"What time is it?" He looked at the watch on his wrist.

"Eight. Why-" He scrambled to sit up and she fell to the side, squealing in surprise. "Oh shit! Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" His mom was getting married in three hours. Rebecca was going to _freak. _Finn stood up quickly, hopping around the room as he struggled to put on his clothes.

"Rach you gotta hurry I'm going to be late. Mom is going to _kill _me-" He stopped mid ramble to look at his grilfriend who was staring at him, her face red. That was when he realized that he had just popped out of that sleeping bag, totally stark naked. There was no time to be embarrassed. He was so screwed! "_Rach_!" She snapped out of her trance.

"Right. I apologize. Don't worry."

"How can I not be worried? I'm late-"

"You suit's in the closet." He stopped hopping around the room like a bunny on crack.

"My suit's what?"

"In the closet," she repeated simply.

"When did you get that thing out of my room?" he asked, momentarily stunned at her ninja skills.

"Oh please, You were so obsessed with those cookies I baked, I could have stolen your Xbox and you wouldn't have noticed." He grinned and leaned down to kiss her.

"You're such a stalker. I love you."

"I prefer the term stealthy, thank you very much." He shot her another grin and straightened up. "Erm Finn," she began slowly.

"What?" He was already shrugging off his jacket.

"Could you erm, change somewhere else please? I need to get into my dress."

"Oh. Right right," he answered stupidly. She giggled when he walked into the closet door. "I'll be back in half an hour. Okay?"

"Okay," she smiled.

Half an hour later, he walked into his room to find her cross-legged on the floor, the material of her dress swimming around her. She was attempting to scrape off his wallpaper.

"Rachel Berry are you vandalising private property?" She turned around in surprise and stared at him guiltily. The guilt changed into determination as she scrapped some more and squealed in satisfaction five seconds later. She stood up and walked over towards him, her smile wide.

"It's your property. This is your wallpaper. I thought you'd like something to remember it by. A sentimental token of sorts," she said as she opened his palm and placed a piece of his wallpaper in his hand. There was a lone cowboy riding on a horse. He looked up from his palm to meet her loving gaze and smiled.

"You're the best girlfriend ever you know that?"

"Even if I'm a juvenile delinquent now?"

"Especially because you're a juvenile delinquent," he grinned, grabbing her waist to pull her in closer. He kissed her and tried to put in all the passion and just plain gratefulness that he could muster into it. She was gripping the lapels of his tux like her life depended on it when he pulled away.

"Your dress is really hot," he whispered, his breath fanning across her eyelashes.

"I told you it was going to be."

"I wasn't listening."

"I know."

"C'mon princess. You gotta get me to that wedding."

**XXX**

He walked down the aisle nervously, his mom's arm firmly linked around his. Everybody had turned to stare at them, the two-person unit that was about to turn into four. He had arrived at the Hummels with an hour to spare and Rachel had made a beeline for the bathroom, claiming that she needed to fix her hair and get her make up done. He hadn't seen her since. Everybody had been frantically looking for him by that time and he had a hard time explaining to them that he had gone for a morning run. It was just about the lamest excuse he ever told anyone but everyone was just too busy to actually care.

"You look beautiful mom," he had said when he slipped into her room. She had turned around to look at him, a smile radiating her face and he knew with certainty that he was giving her away into good hands. She had kissed his cheeks and ruined her lipstick, which annoyed the make-up person. It was a good thing her eyeliner was waterproof or something cause tears were running down her cheeks like a river. Finn wiped them away with his handkerchief and she laughed, pulling him in for a bone-crushing hug once again. Grinning his lopsided grin at her, Finn had taken her hand and swiftly led her out of the room. Burt was waiting.

He looked around at the guests before him, trying to find those familiar brown eyes as he stood proudly behind his mom at the altar. He found her, two rows back, her eyes already on him. She beamed at him proudly, infecting his face with an equally bright smile. He was stepping into new territory. It was scary.

But sometimes, change was good.


	18. Four seasons

The summer they were apart, she had refused to return to Lima. Much to both of her fathers' discontent, she had chosen to stay in New York instead. With Shelby. She couldn't go back, knowing that he was going to be there. How could she face him and not hate him? Worse, how could she face him and not realize once again how hopelessly in love with him she still was? So when her mother had subtly hinted that she would like it very much if Rachel spent a portion of the summer with her, she had said yes immediately.

If it was any other summer, if it wasn't the summer he left, it would have probably been the best summer of her life. It was two months spent attending every show under the sun and meeting with people on the inside, people who left her starstruck and in awe. She knew that her rise to Broadway could be made easier with Shelby as her ticket. She knew that was what Shelby was trying to imply. She was grateful. But it annoyed her just a little bit to think that her mother thought she couldn't make it on her own (He used to tell her that she was a star and that she needed no one to succeed. That was a lie. She needed him.).

Beth was growing up into the most adorable and lovable little girl Rachel had ever met. She greeted her stepsister with kisses and made-up songs and loved to walk like she was dancing. But there were signs of her parents in her. She had a glare that could have frozen the sun and an odd love for football that left her mother shaking her head in resignation. The little girl loved to take pictures and videos of herself dancing and performing in front of her stuffed animals. Rachel helped her with the direction (She was so glad for this beautiful little girl, so glad for the mistakes that had happened, because sometimes her antics were the only thing that kept Rachel from falling apart.).

She emailed a picture to Quinn every single day. Every day a new one, a new expression on Beth's face. In the years since high school, they never really became friends. But they never really stayed enemies either. Sometimes Rachel felt that they were just fixtures in one another's life, someone that was just there, that would leave a weird, gaping hole if she ever left. Quinn never replied. But that was okay. Rachel knew she got them. One week before her stay with Shelby ended and before her fathers came for a month-long visit, she finally received an email. There had been no greetings or acknowledgements, just a string of words that formed a sentence that left tears leaking out of her eyes. **He's miserable and it shows**.

Her daddy greeted her with his customary theatrics, his tears welling in his eyes as he told her that she had grown so much since the last time they saw each other. She wondered if grown was code for looking heartbroken. Her dad had said nothing but had enveloped her in a big hug instead, crushing her to his chest. She felt a little guilty for ditching them in her attempt to fix her heart. There were a lot of questions. About what happened, how it happened and why. Daddy was insistent and she had a hard time explaining that she just didn't know. Rachel didn't know anything. The what, the how, the why. It was still a blur to her.

Daddy stopped asking when her dad had suddenly spoke up and said "He thought it was the best. You can't blame the boy for doing what he thinks is best.". She had looked up in surprise, but her dad had continued reading the newspaper in his hands (Now, _now_ when they've broken up, _now_ he was on _his _side?). She comforted herself with the thought that he was just glad they were over. But she knew it wasn't true.

Al came back from his whirlwind tour around Europe two weeks before her parents left and they loved him to pieces. He had made his homecoming known rather dramatically as he bombarded Rachel with a side hug and a "Sweetie are you okay?" the moment she opened the hotel room door. He wasn't around when _that _night happened. He had left spontaneously that very night. She knew because when she was done with her crying, she had called him thirty times, each time willing for him to pick up the phone. When he had called her the next morning, excitedly asking her to guess where he was, she had cried into the phone for an hour instead. He said he would come home immediately. Rachel had a tendency for self-obsession. But she wasn't selfish.

Two weeks before the end of summer, when her parents returned to Lima and Rachel returned to her pathetic excuse of an aprtment, she had born witness to the hottest day of the year. The heat drove her crazy and she spent the whole day pressing cloth covered ice cubes against her neck. It was her greatest annoyance that the most comfortable shirt she owned just had to be her Team Finn t-shirt. By six, she had a complete meltdown. She had stalked angrily into her room and, with unnerving calmness, collected every single thing that ever reminded her of him and placed them in a lone box, including the stupid t-shirt. Making room right in the middle of her apartment, she had lit a match and dropped it stoicly to burn away her memories.

It took her five minutes to realize that burning pictures were never a good idea. Coughing profusely as her eyes filled with tears, it was the first time she was ever grateful that her apartment was so pathetic, it wasn't even equipped with a smoke detector. The day ended with Al showing up at her door, four different alchohol bottles in hand. He helped her carry the box down and placed it neatly next to the dumpster behind the apartment. She got drunk for the first time in her life and laid passed out on the floor with her bestfriend. Rachel woke up at three in the morning, puking her guts out (turned she had a gag reflex after all), and had quietly slipped out the door before frantically running down the stairs to take back the stupid box before the trashman came. She pushed it into the furthest corner of her closet and tried to pretend it didn't exist.

Two weeks into her fall semester, she met Jake. Crashed into him, more like. She had been late for her elective Psych class and he was just an innocent bystander. He was a law major with a sunny disposition and the second most attractive smile she had ever seen. He asked her out for coffee and she said no thank you. She didn't drink coffee. Juice then, he insisted. She smiled. But she really was late and ran with a hasty apology thrown back at him. It was only as she was walking back from class did she realize that it wasn't her who didn't drink coffee.

She found herself with an endearing stalker of sorts on every Wednesday from then on, persistently asking her out for juice. Or frozen yoghurt. Or pizza. She made it through three weeks until they bumped into each other while she was at lunch with Al. As they watched his retreating figure, her friend had wryly asked when she planned to officially join the convent.

Jake was funny. He was cute and he really, really liked her. Which didn't happen often. Turning into an official adult didn't automatically present you with normal social graces, she found. She wasn't looking for anything permanent and neither was he. So they were pretty much perfect. She held herself back because there had really ever been only one boy who loved her and all her crazy, and she had lost that one.

It wasn't until a month of sort-of-almost casual dating did he get to witness her in all her glory when he had made a joke in passing that watching musicals were like getting high on crack. She had ripped on him for the better part of an hour, referencing every single musical under the sun and the cultural impact they have made on the general masses. Footnotes were included. He had stared at her, half in disbelief and half in amusement, before finally holding up his hands in surrender and swearing to never make such nonchalant remarks in her presence or ever again.

He was a loyal fan of The Yankees and took her to all the baseball games he could afford. During the first moment she stepped into the stadium and the first pitch she witnessed , Rachel had a very hard time in trying to suppress the mental images of annual anniversary dates at worn-out and deteriorating batting cages. But she did it. And the second time was a little easier.

He taught her the basics of the game and the right way to cheer, by putting two fingers at the edge of her lips and letting out the loudest wolf-whistle she could muster. It was during one of these games and in the middle of her perfected whistle that he had swooped down and planted his lips firmly on hers. She had stood rooted to the ground long after he pulled away and grinned at her. His lips were foreign and felt nothing like the ones she was used to. It was... pleasant. But it was different. And she wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

Rachel auditioned for the role of Maria in the college production of West Side Story, knowing full well that the part was in her hands the moment she stepped onto the stage and opened her mouth. It was a month long procedure of rehearsal after rehearsal on crazy schedules that would accomodate everyone in the production. She nailed every single line every single time because she had the play memorized ever since she was twelve. She loved every single second. She felt it to her bone that it was exactly what she was meant to be doing for the rest of her life. The stage was where she belonged (In the back of her mind, his promise to be in the front row, center stage kept playing like a broken record over and over).

The night before her big performance, Rachel spent an hour pacing nervously from one end of her room to the other, phone in hand. She knew it was wrong. She knew she was only setting herself up for inevitable and inconsolable pain. But it was truly out of her hands. Her actions were not her own. They were of the old, naive and stupid Rachel Berry. Before she could stop herself, the number was already dialed and the phone was already pressed to her ear. It took four rings and she almost hung up.

"Yo." She frowned at the unfamiliar voice and pulled the phone away to look at the numbers. They were correct.

"Hello," she replied hesitantly. "May I speak to Finn?"

"Who're you?"

"I'm his-" What? Ex? Friend? The girl whose heart he broke? "Acquaintance."

"Huh. Dude left his phone." As her heart rate seemed to return to normal, she wondered if it was dissapoinment that was weighing her chest down so painfully.

"Oh."

"I'm Tom. You know I feel like I need to tell you this, cause my man Finn would probably try to play it cool later. But you and everyone he knows should know that tonight is the_ night_ man!"

"Night?" she asked, slightly amused at the apparent excitement that laced his words. Tom must be a new roommate. Someone new in his life. Someone she didn't know.

"You got that right sweet cheeks. Tonight is _the_ night that my man Hudson is going to score with _the_ Mary-Beth Stevenson. Don't let the sweet Southern name fool you because that girl is_ hot. _She's been-"

"I have to go." Her words were abrupt. She had to get them out as soon as possible before the bile that seemed to have made its way up her throat would literally appear.

"Oh yeah. Hey what's your-" She hung up, staring blankly at her cellphone, willing her tears away. Inevitable and inconsolable pain. She deserved every little bit of it for being so foolish.

The play was a predictable success. With her as the star, of course it would be. In the front row, center stage, Al sat with his video camera perpetually glued to his face. Jake was beside him, and he had looked up at her in wonder, a proud smile gracing his features as he wolf-whistled at the curtain call. She tried not to let it bother her that they were where _he_ should have been. She went backstage and was greeted with a long, rectangular box that sat on her makeup chair. Rachel had opened them to find a dozen stargazer lilies tied together neatly with a white ribbon. They were beautiful and perfect for her, a burst of pink wonders in her favorite shape. There had been no card attched to them.

She met Al and Jake at the entrance of the auditorium once she had cleaned up, the box held carefully under one arm. As she raised herself a little for a chaste kiss, she had thanked her sort-of-maybe new boyfriend for the beautiful gift and was greeted by a small and confused smile. They weren't from him. She shook her head a little, embarrassed and blew it off when he apologized for not getting her anything. Al spent the night and Jake left them both at the curb of her apartment after a pleasant dinner filled with compliments. She wondered out loud incessantly about the mysterious flowers until Al had turned to her exasperatedly and told her to just let it go already and enjoy the gift. She had looked at him curiously then, because the tips of his ears were turning red as he said them and she knew he knew who it was. Suddenly, she had a feeling she knew who it was too. But it was impossible. He didn't even know about the musical in the first place. Al tried to distract her and made her sign his program.

"Sign it to my biggest and best fan in the whole world, Love Rachel Barbara Berry. And I want that gold sticker on there. I know you don't use them anymore, but I saw that stash you tried to hide in your drawer," he told her. She looked up in amusment. That was specific. Rachel did as she was told and proceeded to give her bestfriend the best hug she could muster because she didn't know how she could have survived everything without him. The stargazers were carefully placed in a vase on her desk and tended to daily until the end of its life. She cried as she scattered the dead petals into the pond at the park nearby.

With winter came a new semester and a new and improved Rachel Berry. Finn Hudson was out of her mind. Completely. She had thrown him out the moment she heard the name Mary-Beth Stevenson who was probably a beautiful and proper blue-eyed blond without any narcissistic tendencies or a nose with a personality of its own. She was done being heartbroken (The box was still in the back of her closet because she didn't even remember it was there. Really.).

She threw herself into another play because she was determined to shine her star to gleaming perfection. Little Shop of Horrors was not part of her repertoire as horror had never been a particular attraction to her. But Rachel Berry always loved a challenge and Audrey was a perfect role to improvise on her dramatic skills. The role was harder than the one before, and she spent all of her time before and after class honing her skills to perfection. She was determined to know her character like the back of her hand. They had something in common, Audrey and her. They would both give everything they could once they found that someone. Or at least, that was what the old Rachel was like. The new Rachel couldn't care less. Honestly.

She finally met the elusive John on a double date where Rachel had spent the whole time smiling in amusement at the flustered way the usually calm and confident Al acted. Her friend was so nervous, he dropped his knife twice, the second time resulting in a loud, clangng noise that left him blushing to the roots of his hair. John had placed a hand encouragingly over Al's and that seemed to calm him down a little as he went through the rest of the date disaster-free. She wondered why watching them made her feel so melancholic. The night ended with a Rachel Berry-approved seal on Al's new boyfriend which seemed to relief the couple. It was a little gratifying to know that her approval meant so much.

As expected, the horror musical sold out and Rachel Berry once again wowed the audience with her outstanding performance. The front row were filled with the usual, plus John. As she made her way back to her makeshift 'dressing room', her heart seemed to skip a beat when her gaze caught the familiar looking rectangular box. She had hurried over to her table and practically ripped the box open, her heart seeming to expand when the burst of pink star-shaped flowers filled her vision.

"It's him, isn't it?" she asked softly in the darkness, her blanket up to her chin. It was 2 a.m. And the flowers were placed carefully on her desk in the vase and Al was lying next to her, supposedly sleeping. She knew better. There was a heartbeat of a pause before she heard Al's sigh as he turned towards her.

"Rachel-"

"I know it is. I _know_." Al said nothing for the longest time.

"Goodnight," she whispered finally.

"Goodnight."

She had called Jake the next day because they needed to talk. He knew what was coming. She could see it from the look on his face as she stood up from her chair to kiss his cheek. It didn't take long for everything to come out. And suddenly, she was reliving the past five years of her life to her sort-of-maybe boyfriend and soon-to-be friend. He said it before she could. _You are not over him_. Five simple words in the English dictionary that she had refused to say out loud or even think in the last couple of months. The one perpetual truth in her life. She was not over Finn Hudson. She refrained from mentioning that she probably never will be. Instead, she had smiled sadly at the boy before her, wondering that if it was another time, another universe, one where she wasn't so wholly and utterly attached to someone else, if maybe they could have worked.

It had happened one night, during the end of Spring. Rachel had refused the invitation to be the third wheel on Al and John's date. They were going to some art gallery opening and all she had wanted to do was to curl up in bed and watch Funny Girl. She missed that movie. She hadn't watched it since the last time her hert fell to pieces because the pain from the movie would have been to acutely real. Almost a year later, she knew she was ready. Fanny Brice was a dear friend of hers, and this time around, Rachel found that she understood the woman's actions in a way that she never did before.

As the credits rolled, and the last of her tears dried up, the phone she had left on the pillow next to hers began to vibrate. She had distractedly reached for her phone and almost answered without looking at the caller ID. As her eyes fell on the numbers blinking on her screen, she swore that her heart had stopped beating. It was true. For five seconds, Rachel Berry had actually died. The ringing stopped and she was still left completely bewildered, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. The second time it rang, Rachel snapped out of her trance. Her heart was beating hard enough to hurt her ribs. With shaking fingers, she pressed the receive button.

"Hello?" she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"Raacch.." he slurred. She frowned.

"Are you drunk?" she asked softly.

"No. No no no no _no_. I'm not drunk. Why would you say _that_?"

"Finn where are you?" she asked, worried despite herself.

"I dunno. Whatever. How are _you_? Are you okay? Are you good? What m'I talkin' bout? Of course you're okay. You're awesome Rachel, you know that? You're the" he hiccuped. "-_Best_. And you're gonna be a _star_ baby. A_ star_! And I'm an idiot. Stupid Finn. Stupid, _stupid_ Finn. But you know that."

"Finn-"

"I miss you so much! Like a l_ot_. Like if I was an ant or something then my missing you would be _huge_, like the size of the _entire _ocean. Wait. That's not right. What am I saying? Oh yeah, I'm an idiot. Really huge dumbass. Cause I'm miserable. I'm so fucking _miserable_ Rachel." His words came out as barely coherent slurs and she knew she should be worried about where he was right then. But all she wanted was for him to keep talking.

"You are?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"Yeah. You're not here. You're not anywhere cause _Stupid _Finn made you cry and now you're _gone_. And that idiot thought he knew what he was doing," he snorted angrily and she heard a vague thump and a crash. "Oops. I just threw my last beer at Tom's lamp. He's gonna be _sooo _pissed." She felt better knwoing that he was somewhere safe. "_Anyway, _Stupid Finn's stupid. Cause he thought he was like, _protecting_ you, or something and now he's just as miserable as_ I_ am. But you're not miserable? Right Rach? You're not. You're happy cause you're not stuck with us anymore and you're so amazing baby, and you're gonna _shine _and we're just gonna sit here and be fucking miserable without you. Cause you're better off- wait. No. No no no no no _no! _Stupid Finn, go _away _already. I'm trying to save us here. Sorry 'bout that Rach."

"Finn," she said softly. "You need to lie down. Are you lying down?"

"'Kay."

"Are you lying down?"

"Uh-huh."

"Good." 

"I miss you Rachel. Do you miss me? I mean, I know you don't miss Stupid Finn cause he fucked up, but do you miss me?" She felt the tears pool in her eyes. He was drunk. And she was so pathetic. Because even when he was drunk he could make her willpower dissapear.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes I miss you Finn."

"Even the stupid me?" His voice sounded drowsy.

"Even him."

"I love you Rachel Barbara Berry. I love you _so_ much I just want to sit on my bed and _cry_ all the time."

"You're so drunk," she answered wryly, unable to stop the unwitting smile from growing on her face.

"Yep. Being drunk's _fun_."

"You won't think so tomorrow."

"Come here." Her heart stopped for the second time that night. He had a tendency to shock her to death. Literally.

"What?"

"Come here. Where I am. Pleeaaasse? Can you get here? Like soon? There's something I want to tell you but I can't remember now cause my brains feels all wonky. So can you please come here and see me so I can_ finally _tell you?"

"Finn, you're killing me," she said softly.

"You have to come Rach. You _have_ to. Rachel I- I-"

"What?" she asked, sitting up straighter in her bed, her pulse racing.

"I need to puke. I gotta go. I really, really gotta-" Her mind was a total blank as she heard the dead tone. She stared blankly at the phone in her hand, wondering if the conversation they had actually happened or if it was just a figment of her deluded imagination. It was real. She had heard his voice for the first time in almost a year. It was exactly the same. Albeit, completely inebriated, but the same nonetheless. What did he mean? Was he for real? Was she kidding herself by letting her hopes up? Was she an idiot for letting her hopes up?

After five hours of tossing and turning and trying to sleep, she finally gave up and left her bed. She walked slowly towards the closet, her heart threatening to jump out of her chest as she kneeled down and pushed away the shoeboxes that littered the front. She pulled her memories out of their hiding and sneezed as dust flew into her nose. Slowly opening the box, she was greeted with a plethora of Finn memorabilia and his huge, crooked grin as his photo stared up at her lovingly. There it was. The most beautiful smile she had ever seen. She sieved through its contents until the sun rose.

Rachel Berry found herself. She knew who she was as a person, as an individual. And in finding herself, Rachel found that she was back where she started. Still in love with the same boy. She knew better this time around. She _could _function without him, she _could _survive. Better yet, she had even flourished. She had thought she needed him like she needed to breathe, like if he wasn't around she would just wilt away and die. She should have known she was so much stronger than that. Rachel Berry could live without Finn Hudson.

She just really, really didn't want to.


	19. Waiting

She stared into the darkness that surrounded her, his light snore the only sound alerting her senses. The red light on the clock next to her was glaring the number three. She had been awake for the past three hours, restlessly trying to compose the jumble of thoughts in her head. Finn had been lying camatose beside her since his head hit the pillows four hours ago. She had planned to discuss the issue with him earlier, but he had returned home exhausted and unfocused after a late night at the office and she decided to wait. Waiting had never been her strong point. Now at three in the morning, Rachel found that she just could not wait any longer. Gently roaming her hand over him as she tried to find his arm, she heard him snort in surprise as she accidentally hit him on the stomach before he turned to face her and slept on, one arm thrown carelessly over her middle.

"Finn?" she whispered softly, feeling his breath fan across her face as she turned towards him. She pushed against his arm gently, trying to wake him up. "Finn wake up. This is important." . She shook his arm persistently, gradually using more of her strength to wake him. He grunted in annoyance as he swatted her arm away. Rachel sighed. Trying to wake a sleeping Finn was never an easy task. But time was of the essence. This was an imperative matter.

"Finn!" she hissed, nudging his chest harder. "Honey wake up!"

"Hmm?" She was almost there. One more swift aim to the chest and he would be back in the land of the living.

"Finn?" she whispered as he grunted in surprise at the force of her soft blow.

"Huh?" he mumbled sleepily. He said something else, but it was too incoherent for her to decipher. She ignored it.

"We need to discuss a very crucial matter. This pertains to the happiness of our future." She pushed against him one more time.

"Okay baby," he mumbled, still half asleep as he buried his head into the crook of her neck and tightened his arm around her. Rachel leaned her head back and pushed his away.

"Are you lucid?"

"Uh-huh."

"_Finn_!" she hissed. She heard him groan in the dark.

"It's sleeping time Rach," he muttered. "We go to sleep,"

"Good you're awake," she answered, satisfied. "I just wanted to inform you," she stopped to take a deep breath "That I'm ready."

"Great," he answered sleepily, pulling her body against him as he swung one leg across her hip and hugged her like she was a bolster. Rachel rolled her eyes, her body automatically burying itself further into his arms.

"Don't you want to know what I'm ready for?"

"Bed?" 

"No." Finn sighed in resignation as she laid her hand on top of his. He turned his palm upwards and weaved their fingers together.

"I give up. What are you ready for Mrs Hudson?"

"Well," she paused for effect. "A family," she answered simply. He was quiet. She thought it might be because of the shock her words had brought. Until she heard the familiar rhythm of his breath and realized he had gone back to sleep. She huffed in annoyance, put out by his inability to stay awake. She wondered if any part of his subconscious even heard her. Burying herself further into his embrace, she rested her head against his chest in resignation, the sound of his heartbeat lulling her to sleep.

Two hours later, Rachel was jolted awake by something franctically shaking her whole body. She opened her eyes slowly, blinded by the light coming from the bedside table. His face loomed over hers as he called out her name, his expression anxious.

"What?" she asked irritably, wishing he would just stop so that she could go back to sleep.

"What did you say?" he asked urgently. He was kneeling over her, his legs making a dent in the mattress on either side of her thighs. Rachel sighed.

"What?"

"You said you were ready. Or was I dreaming? Did you say you were ready?" He was staring at her intently, one hand cupping her jaw to gently force her to look up.

"I did. As I recall you weren't particularly interested to know what for." she answered peevishly. Rachel caught the almost hopeful look that passed over his face and felt herself softening. Finn leaned farther over her until his face was just inches away.

"Ready for what?" he asked, both hands cupping her face.

"Bed?" she teased, remembering their earlier conversation as the last vestige of sleep left her brain. He didn't crack a smile.

"Ready for what Rach?" he repeated softly, by now completely lying on top of her, his face full of anticipation. She smiled softly at him, feeling her heart expand at the look he was giving her.

"A family," she whispered softly, catching his gaze.

The smile started with his eyes. She could see the corners crinkling as the realization dawned in his expression. It moved down to the left corner of his lips as it pulled upward slightly before moving towards the right as his full blown smile came to fruition. She was inexplicably reminded of the first time he ever told her he loved her, moments before they had to be on stage, and of the smile that had taken her breath away. The comfortable pressure of his body dissapeared when he suddenly jumped out of bed, joyously laughing as he pulled her up with him. His joy was infectious and she found herself laughing along happily.

"I thought it was a dream," he whispered as he pulled her into a bear hug. "I thought I was dreaming." Rachel snaked her arms around his waist, pulling him tighter against her.

"I'm sorry I waited so long," she whispered into his chest. "I'm sorry you had to wait so long." She felt his laughter reveberate against her ear.

"It doesn't matter. You're ready now. We're ready."

"We're ready," she repeated, grinning like an idiot.

"So," he began casually after a heartbeat. "We should probably start as soon as possible." She nodded nonchalantly in affirmation.

"You know how much I detest procrastination." His wicked grin left her breathless. She squealed in surprise as he swiftly picked her up and threw her onto the bed.

XXX

Trying to have a baby was fun. Trying to have a baby was a _lot _of fun.

XXX

She paced back and forth anxiously as she waited for the timer to go off. She had a good feeling about this. Rachel thought that if she wanted it to happen this badly, than what other choice was there but for her wish to come true? Rachel Berry always got what she wanted. She heard the 'ding' of the timer go off and was in front of the sink in a flash, excitedly picking up the stick. She felt herself deflating at the result. Finn was going to be dissapointed. She looked up into the mirror and set her face into a look of determination. It was fine. She was nothing if not resilient. After all as they say, if at first you don't succeed, try, try again.

XXX

After her eighth failed result, the restlessness began to settle in. She broke down and started crying in the middle of relaying the bad news and spent the whole night in his arms as he told her over and over again that it was okay. They had time.

They missed her carefully planned schedule that night.

As he tightened his arms around her exhausted, sleeping form, he couldn't shake away the familiar feeling of dissapoinment that always seemed to hit him like a ton of bricks.

XXX

After thirteen months, trying to have a baby wasn't so fun anymore. Suddenly, there were all these rules they had to follow. She insisted on complying to every single one. Every. Single. Time. There were certain ways to touch one another, certain ways that weren't allowed. Spontaneity was a big no no. Every single move was calculated and predicted. It began to feel like a chore. Another check in the list of things to do.

The thought alarmed him, and it was almost enough to make him stop.

But he saw the hope that flashed across her face every time it's over and held his tongue.

XXX

Fifteen failed tests later, she insisted that something must be wrong. The baby had turned into an almost obsession for the both of them and he was willing to do anything, _anything,_ for it to be something that can be fixed.

XXX

Dr. Zanki was a large man, with a piercing gaze and and an open face. The first time Finn saw the man, he was reminded inexplicably of Santa Clause. If Santa had been Persian anyway. He smiled encouragingly at the couple as they both clasped each other's hand nervously, his thumb grazing over her knuckles, attempting to sooth the restlessness that overcame them both.

"I'm happy to say," the doctor began in his slight Persan accent. "That all of the test results came back negative. There is absolutely nothing wrong with either one of you." Rachel frowned and sat up straighter in her chair. He tightened his grip on her hand.

"Nothing?" she asked dubiously. "No genetic defects? No hormonal imbalances? None whatsoever?"

"Everything seems to be fine Mrs Hudson. The two of you are in the pink of health."

"Oh." He understood her dejection, even if Dr Zanki was looking at the both of them in bemusement. Rachel looked up at the man, the dissatisfaction showing on her face. "Then why can't I get pregnant?"

"My guess would be that it's just the timing. You seem to be catching each other at the wrong moments, so to speak."

"That's impossible," she answered stubbornly, letting go of his hand and clasping hers together tightly in front of her. "We have been trying for more than a year. I have timed our schedules perfectly to coincide with my menstruation cycle. I never miss my birth control pills. Our schedule is impeccable." _Too impeccable_, he couldn't help thinking. His wife was still furiously explaining the ridiculousness of the past year and was the doctor really a hundred percent certain there wasn't somehing wrong with either one of them that could fix the situation? Finn just felt tired. Dr. Zanki was looking at them thoughtfully.

"May I show you something?" he finally asked once Rachel had vented out her frustrations. She nodded her head imperceptibly, visibly upset, while Finn managed a small smile that he hoped was accomodating. The doctor reached forward for the frame on his desk and turned it around.

"This is my wife, Zahra," he began, pointing towards a woman wearing a headscarf who smiled prettily into the camera while a small girl who looked like she was maybe five grinned toothlessly on her mother's lap. "And this little beauty over here is Maryam. She will be five in a week."

"You have a beautiful family," Rachel said softly. Finn took her hand again and squeezed gently and smiled a little as she squeezed back harder.

"Thank you very much," Dr. Zanki answered, a proud smile on his face. "My wife and I, we met as students right here in America. When we got married, we were both twenty. Now you can tell from this hagard face that I'm no longer a young soul. In fact, we just celebrated our twentieth anniversary two months ago."

"Congratulations," Finn said. The doctor smiled and nodded a thank you while he continued with his story. Finn knew his wife was getting restless by the subtle way she fidgeted in her chair.

"We were both thirty five when we had Maryam," he said softly, staring intently at Rachel. "We never thought we would be blessed with a child. Fifteen years of marriage and twelve years of hoping to conceive." The doctor shook his head wearily at the memory. "We were both resigned to accept that maybe children were just not something written in our destinies." Rachel had stiffened in her chair and Finn wished he knew what she was thinking. He couldn't tell by the almost stoic expression on her face. Dr. Zanki was still speaking. Finn turned his attention back towards him.

"You know, Mr and Mrs Hudson," he said slowly, as if thinking over he was thinking over his words carefully. "In my religion, as, I'm sure in all others too, we believe that children are a blessing. A gift from the good Lord. And sometimes gifts," he smiled fondly at the picture in his hand before he looked back up at the two of them, his expression serious. "They mean so much more when you have toiled an strived. We waited _years_ for our Maryam and she has brought immense light and joy into our lives. Every dissapointing result and false conclusion has made her presence in this world that much sweeter for us." Dr. Zanki smiled kindly at them. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?" Finn nodded his head slowly. He got it. There was nothing that could be done. Except to wait some more.

"Yes. Thank you doctor."

The ride home was quiet. Rachel seemed to be somewher far away and he just felt too weary to try and strike up a conversation. They stopped for Chinese take out along the way and returned home to an equally quiet dinner, both lost in their own thoughts. It was funny how his patience seemed to be wearing so thin when he had waited years for her to say yes so calmly. They had both anticipated a baby so expectantly, the long wait had started to wear them down.

There was an undercurrent of strain in their relationship that scared him. The act of making love, something that they both never used to tire of, was starting to feel like a hassle, a futile action that never seemed to bring the desired result. They used to begin every time with huge grins plastered on their faces, eagerly anticipating. Months later, it somehow turned into something they both resented, something full of false promises.

It wasn't until she decided to turn in early did her realize that they haven't said a word to each other since the doctor's office. Half an hour later Finn sighed and stood up from the couch, leaving the game he was watching. He didn't really know what was going on anyway. Rachel was already in bed, her eyes shut tightly as she laid on her side. He knew she wasn't sleeping. He kneeled on the floor next to her side and brushed back the lock of hair that fell over her face before he kissed her forehead. Her eyes flew open and the determination that colored them caused a feeling of wariness to rise within him.

"We need a new doctor," she said primly. His hand froze on the crown of her head as he stared at her in confusion. Dr. Zanki had been her gyneacologist for years. She loved the man.

"Why?" he finally asked. Rachel sat up abruptly and leaned againts the headboard, her arms folded defensively across her chest.

"He obviously thinks that I don't have God's blessing. We don't need that kind of negative energy surrounding us when we are trying to conceive Finn. A positive environment is imperative for a successful conception." Finn stared back into her defiant eyes blankly, trying his best to figure out his wife's train of thought and how she managed to reach the conclusion that she had. After a moment of silence where she sat and gazed at him expectantly while he was still trying to figure her out, he gave up.

"Rach," he began carefully. "I don't think that was what he meant at all."

"Of course it was! What was that whole thing about children being a blessing and God's gift then? Obviously he thinks I'm undeserving of a child because here I am, _toiling_ and _striving_ to conceive with no apparent result to speak of." Clearly, she was being ridiculous. But even clearer, he knew there was no arguing with her when she went off into one of her dramatic spirals. And frankly, he was just too damned tired of it all to even try. She was going to come to her senses. Eventually.

"Fine," he answered quietly. Her eyebrows flew up in surprise as she stared at him. "We'll find a new doctor if you want. I'll ask around the office tomorrow."

"Thank you," she answered quietly, unable to hide the uncertainty that passed through her face away from him. He cupped her face gently in the palms of his hands as his gaze bore into hers.

"I love you, Rachel." How long has it been since he told her that? He couldn't remember the last time. The startled look on her face told him she probably couldn't either.

"I love you too Finn," she replied softly. The smile grew involuntarily on both their faces as he pulled on her hair gently, something he hadn't done in a long time.

"I'm going to get ready for bed, okay?"

"Okay."

She was already asleep when he stepped out of their bathroom. Rachel laid on her side, facing his side of the bed, both hands tucked under her chin, eyes closed. Finn turned off the light and settled himself next to her as he laid on his back and stared into the darkness before him. He didn't feel like sleeping. He turned to his side to face her, unable to see but aware that she was right there in front of him. Just as he was about to reach out for her, she spoke and caught him by surprise.

"I don't want to end up like my mother." Her words were quiet but clear. She hadn't been sleeping after all. He said nothing as he stared into the direction where he knew her face was. He knew it better than he knew his own. There wasn't a freckle that he hadn't memorized. And he knew that right then, her face was set in a grim expression as she formed her words.

"You're nothing like her," he finally said.

"Look at me. I'm thirty two years old. I'm going to be thirty three in a month. And what do I have to show for my life? Trophies and recognition, these were the things I craved for ever since I can remember, but now," He heard her soft sigh in the dark. "They just seem so pointless. I can feel my clock ticking away Finn. What if we can't have this baby? Studies have shown that it gets harder to conceive once you reach your thirties. I wasted all this time on such trivial things, just like she did. And _now_, now when I've realized it, it might be too late."

"Your dreams were never trivial Rachel," he said softly. He was still staring at her, straight into the wide eyes that he knew were staring right back into his.

"Shelby didn't want a baby until it was too late because she was selfish. She didn't want to give away any part of herself. She wanted it all for her own. And then it was too late. I'm like that. Selfish. Just like her." This weird... _whatever_ between them had to end. He just couldn't bear the thought of growing apart any longer. He loved her. And he _wanted_ that child. But not at the expense of them.

"Listen to me. You're not selfish. You're _not_. Do you know how I know?" He didn't wait for her answer. "It's cause you have one thing Shelby never had. You have me. You love me. And there is no way in hell that you could love me like you do if you were like her. Baby I'm not saying that you're selfless. We both know that's not true. But selfish people don't give pieces of their hearts away the that way you do. They don't love the way you do, the way you love me." He felt her shudder next to him. Finn reached out a hand towards her face and felt the wetness of her cheeks.

"Why aren't you furious at me?" she asked, the guilt in her voice clear as day. "I wasted _so_ much time. And you gave up so _much_ for me. And you were so patient and you kept telling me only when I'm ready. And I _knew_ how much you wanted this. I _knew_ how selfish I was being when I pretended like we had all the time in the world because we _don't_ Finn." Her voice grew more hysterical with each word as he wiped away the tears that fell rapidly onto her pillow. "All you wanted was a family," she said quietly, her voice hoarse. " And I couldn't even give you that." He frowned into the darkness, his frustration reaching its peak. That was _it_. He leaned over her to turn on her bedside lamp. In the sudden brightness of the room he saw her as she looked up at him, tears still streaming quietly down her face.

"Stop it," he said quietly, an undercurrent of anger veiled in his tone. "You're being stupid. The words that just came out of your mouth are all _bullshit_." Rachel's eyebows shot up to the top of her head in surprise. He had both her shoulders in a death grip by then and hauled her up so that they were eye-level with each other. "Every single one. Everything I have ever done, every 'sacrifice' I made has been for _me_. Because I love you. It wasn't because of you. _I _love _you_. I would've followed you anywhere because life without you would mean living in misery for the rest of my life. _This _is a family Rach." He shook her a little to emphasize his point. "Me and you. The two of us. We're _family_. You're my home Rachel. I don't need a baby to know that. Just like you don't need one to know that I'm yours."

"Yes, I want kids. But you're missing the point Rachel. I want _your_ child. I want a little girl that looks like you, that would have your hair and my eyes and who would sing before she could speak, just like her mom. And maybe a little boy that loves to toss around a football, that likes to drive his mom crazy because he keeps banging on the pots and pans in the kitchen. But if I can't have that? You think that means we're not a family? Look at us." Finn released his hold on her shoulders and circled one arm around her waist as he pulled her in closer and enveloped her into a tight hug, his lips pressed firmly next to her right ear. "_This_ is what I want the most," he whispered furiously. "_You_ are what I want the most. And I have you. I have all of you." He felt her fists bunch up his shirt as she held on tight. There was a growing wet spot on his chest, just above where his heart lay.

"If this doesn't work, if we can't make our own baby, we can adopt Rach. Heck, we'll adopt a whole orphanage if you want. We'll make our own choir and you can boss them around to your heart's content until they turn into teenagers and start hating us." Rachel let out a strange sound between a sob and a laughter and he held her tighter. "There are other ways to have kids Rachel," he said softly. Finn leaned his head back to plant a kiss on her forehead. "What matters is that it's you and it's me. And that we do it together. That's all that matters to me."

She was still crying quietly in his arms. Gently, Finn laid them both down on the bed. He loomed over her body, staring at her intently as he felt the the burning sensation in the back of his eyes. He leaned down and kissed her lips softly before he moved on to every visible surface on her face. He placed his lips on every wet spot that he could find and when a drop of water fell on the corner of her left cheek and made its way into her hair, he couldn't tell whose tears it were that he was tracing anymore. Rachel circled her arms around his neck as she pulled him down on top of her and met his lips in a searing kiss that left him momentarily stunned. She was kissing him the way she used to kiss him before everything became too much, like he was the only thing that existed in her world. He recovered quickly and reciprocated with vigour, missing the way it felt to love each other so physically.

"I love you," she mumbled against his lips right before he slipped his tongue between hers hungrily, rendering her speechless. Her strangled moans were muffled by his mouth as his hands slipped in between them and made their way under his old Mckinley High sweatshirt that she had on. He splayed one hand over her belly, feeling the heat emanating from her body before he gripped the edge of the shirt to pull it off her. No more rules and specific instructions on how to touch. They were going to go by feel from then on. Just like they did before.

XXX

They laid languidly in bed, a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. His wife drew random patterns across his chest with her forefinger and Finn felt a welcomed sense of calmness wash over him. He looked down at the woman in his arms and wiped away the sweat that formed on her forehead that had caused strands of her hair to stick uncomfortably over her face. She looked up and caught his gaze, the happiness radiating off of her in waves.

"I missed you," she said quietly as she took the hand that rested on her head and placed a soft kiss in the middle of his palm, her gaze never leaving his.

"I missed you too." She laid her head down on his chest, right over his most vital organ, and listened intently to the music of his heartbeat. After a few minutes of contented silence, Rachel was the first to say something.

"Finn?"

"Hmm?"

"Anwar is an excellent gyneacologist." He smiled.

"I know."

"I was exaggerating when I said I wanted a new doctor. I didn't mean it." He tugged gently at a lock of her hair before he tucked them behind her ear.

"I know."

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"For what baby?"

"For being you."

"Ditto."

XXX

She woke up mere seconds before she felt it, the sudden outburst of pain that seemed to come from somewhere deep in her belly. Vaguely, she felt the wetness.

"Finn." She shook his arm urgently. "_Finn!_"

"Wha-?" he asked blearily as he was jolted awake. She felt the anticipation grow inside her.

"It's time."

"Time?" His mind seemed to have cleared instantly. "Baby time?"

"Baby time." Finn was up in a flash, hastily throwing on the clothes that had been laid out since a week before. Everything else was already prepared, including her bag of clothes, stashed neatly in the trunk of their car. As he ran over to help her up, she placed a hand on his wrist. He looked up at her and they both shared the same, ear-splitting grin.

"We're ready," he said softly, his eyes shining. She knew hers must be too.

"We're ready."


	20. Baby Girl Hudson

"Are you ready?" Their fingers tighten firmly around each other on reflex as he rests his hand on her chest.

"Yes," Rachel answers, nodding her head vigorously before she turns to him and lets out a breathless giggle. He kisses her forehead, his right foot bouncing nervously against the linoleum as he tries to control his excitement. "We're ready."

"Alright then. See here?" Finn looks at the small screen on the monitor in front of him. All he sees is a blob, to be honest. But that blob is his kid. His and Rachel's. And from the first moment he saw that blob, when it was still just an inch in size, he had fallen irrevocably in love with it. Dr. Zanki smiles kindly at them, and there's something like amusement that laces his words. He points towards something on that screen, something that Finn can't see, but he nods his head anyway because Rachel's squealing in excitement and he figures she could she just show it to him later.

"It's a girl," the doctor announces happily and Rachel's squeals get even louder and she's calling his name and holy shit, it's a girl?

"It's a girl?" he repeats stupidly.

"It's a girl!" Rachel exclaims and let go of his hand to throw her arms around his neck.

It's a girl.

Xxx

"I don't know," she answers vaguely.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"It's just, she's special Finn. She's ours. Her name should be special. Amanda sounds... common."

_You mean like Rachel?,_ was at the tip of his tongue. He refrains though because the hormonal effect that would trigger will so not be worth those five seconds of satisfaction. Finn sighs in frustration. This is the third baby book they've gone through.

"Fine."

"We'll find it," she assures him, smiling and he can't get mad at her. Not really. He doesn't really like Amanda all that much anyway. So he leans forward on the counter top and kisses her mouth and he leaves for work. He makes a mental note to pick up another name book on his way home.

Xxx

"No way."

"But Finn-"

"Rachel. We are not naming our kid Maria."

"Why not?" she whines, trailing the last word like a child. He rolls his eyes, ignoring the bat of her eyelashes as he makes his way to the bathroom, his wife hot on his trail.

"Because I am not naming my kid after some tragic character from a musical." Rachel huffs and crosses her arms across her chest as she leans back against the sink while he brushes his teeth. He's tired and all he wants is to just cuddle her close and go to sleep. But he's pretty sure that's not happening tonight because Rachel has been talking his ear off the minute he stepped through their doorway four hours ago. She started in on the baby names after dinner, and they went through three before he realized that they all came from Broadway.

"Maria is an iconic character and a strong role model for women," she begins once he's done.

"Baby, she's a teenage girl from the ghetto with raging hormones and a boyfriend who got killed in a gang fight." She's sputtering incredulously next to him and he hides his grin as he pulls off his wifebeater and snatches up his pajama top from the bed.

"That is the most disgraceful interpretation of-"

"And we're not Puerto Rican," he says, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling her down next to him.

"Finn! That is racist! And not to mention-"

"Rachel!" She turns to look at him mid rant, her expression livid.

"We'll find it," he says as he wraps an arm around her shoulder to pull her closer into him. He sees her deflating.

"When? I'm seven months along Finn. At this rate, she's going to come out and be named Baby Girl Hudson," she finishes sarcastically.

"Baby Girl Hudson's cool. It's special. Nobody else will have that name."

"Stop teasing me," she grumbles. He pulls her along as he lay back on the bed and she sighs in compliance. Peaceful silence fills the air for almost fifteen minutes and he turns to his side, his palm on her belly, trying to find the beating of his daughter's heart. He's almost asleep when she starts again.

"Don't you think Maria is a-"

"Nope."

"But it's such a beautiful-"

"Nope." She releases a grunt of frustration as he nonchalantly buries his head further into the nape of her neck, trying to find a comfortable position.

"You would think the nine months of pain I'm going through in carrying her might be taken into consideration in this decision."

"That stopped working after the baby crib honey."

"Finn!"

"Rachel!"

"What?"

"Go to sleep."

Xxx

He finds her in front of the television, the sound of her a dead giveaway the moment he entered the house. The first thing he sees is the bowl of popcorn on the large bulge of her belly and her tiny feet sticking out from the edge of the chair she's lounging on. She's singing along to a diaper commercial, her head bobbing in time with the music and he refrains himself from snorting. Quietly, he tiptoes over to her until he's standing right behind her. She still hasn't noticed him and he vaguely notes that he needs to install a tighter security because a robber could have broken in and she probably won't notice at this rate. He leans down, holding his breath.

"I've got it," he whispers. The shriek she lets out almost bursts his ear drums as she jumps, the bowl of popcorn sliding down to the floor, its contents spilling out on to the carpet.

"Don't do that!" she yells angrily as she sits up and punches him hard on the chest. "You scared me!"

"Sorry Rach," he says, not sounding the least bit sorry. She scoots over to the left to give him some room, still glaring at him. He sees her take a deep breath and he just knows she's about to get into the myriad of reasons why he should regret ever thinking that startling her was ever a good idea in the first place.

"I've got it," he says again quickly, before a single sound could come out of her.

"Got what?" she asks, her expression sour. A slow grin starts to spread over his face and he guesses that it might be infectious or something, because he sees her lips pull up slightly too, albeit in confusion.

"Her name."

"Baby Girl Hudson?" she asks, pointing to her stomach. He nods his head confidently. It's perfect. He knew it the moment he passed the florist and his eye caught them. "Well what is it?" she asks in anticipation.

"Lily."

"Lily?"

"Yeah. Like a Stargazer." He sees a kind of softness enter her eyes and he knows she's reliving the same memories he is, thinking of the same things he is, and how perfect this is because of it.

"Lily," she repeats, her voice soft. He knows they've found it. Just something in the way the name rolls off both their tongues and the beautiful way it sounds when she says it makes it right.

"Lily."

"It's perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Xxx

"Hey," he whispers against Rachel's abdomen, near the place where her tiny foot had protruded just seconds ago. "We found your name. Hey Lily."

She kicks again, a tiny movement right next to his ear. Rachel giggles and he feels her mirth reverberate against him. Finn slides back up their bed, right up to his wife who's still giggling like a beautiful little girl, her cheeks rosy and warm.

"I think she likes it," she tells him as he leans his forehead against hers. Rachel's smiling up at him, one of her hands finding its way around his neck, her fingers playing idly with his hair.

"She loves it," he says, grinning. "It's her name."

"She's kicking again," Rachel whispers, leaning up to kiss him softly on the lips. He looks down at her stomach and looks back up to grin at her.

"Lily."

"There she goes." He scooches back down to the middle of the bed, ignoring his wife's laughter.

"Lily," he says again excitedly, right next to her belly. He sees the kick and feels another wave of happiness wash over him. He wonders how it's possible to be this happy.

"Don't encourage her," Rachel says wryly, amusement lacing her words.

"She knows her name," he says looking up at his wife, slightly awestruck.

"Of course she does."

"Lily."

"_Finn_." Rachel whines as his palm feels another kick come in.

"One more time," he pleads, holding up a finger. She's rolling her eyes, but the grin on her face is huge.

"Fine."

"Lily." He thinks his little girl's kicking up a storm in there, like she can't wait to get the hell out of her mommy's belly and meet the world. He can't wait to meet her either. One more month feels like a whole new lifetime.

"I love you," Rachel tells him softly and he tears his fixated gaze away from her stomach to catch her gaze. She's perfect. They're perfect.

"I love you too."

Xxx

Lily Eva Hudson. Best baby name,_ ever_.


	21. A series of firsts

The first time he sees her, Rachel is two and a half months along. He sits by his wife's side as Dr Zanki slathers some liquid on her (still) flat belly and holds her hand. For just a split second, his mind propels back to when he was sixteen and was having another baby with another girl.

He's never been more grateful at how things had ended up playing out.

Dr Zanki tells them to look at the monitor and they do.

She's the size of a peanut.

Rachel starts to cry because she's so happy and he thinks that he's just fallen deeply, irrevocably and inescapably in love.

He should have known that women with the Berry gene would have him wrapped around their little fingers for the rest of his life.

Xxx

Rachel's motherly instinct kicks in during the third month of her pregnancy when her eyes zero in on a flyer tacked on the hospital's general board. She goes home and finds her friend, Lord Google, and sits in front of the computer for four hours straight until he threatens to spend the night watching the Monster Truck Rally on cable if she doesn't hurry up and get ready for dinner.

"I'm taking Infant CPR classes," she announces over his slightly burnt, but decent attempt at tofu burgers.

"That's nice," he says and almost chokes on his potatoes. Talk about irony.

"It's a one week course," she says, once she's done thumping him on the back. "I feel like this is a very crucial medical technique that a well-equipped mother needs to acquire Finn."

"We'll sign you up tomorrow."

She passes the Infant CPR test.

She goes on to take the course on CPR for children above one, CPR for adults and the Heimlich manoeuvre ("This one's for you, baby," she tells him when he drops her off for the first class.)

Xxx

She gets her first craving at five months. She wakes him up in the middle of the night, at three in the fucking _morning_, and she tells him that she wants a pickle sandwich with mustard dressing. It takes him a while to fully regain consciousness and when he does, he asks her if she's serious.

"I'm _hungry_," she whines instead. "I need a sandwich."

"At three o'clock in the morning?"

"_Finn_."

"Fine," he sighs and shuffles out of bed into the kitchen. He thinks it's so much easier to be a good husband and a doting father-to-be when it's not at an ungodly hour and he wasn't just jolted awake by a swift punch in the shoulder.

He makes a face while she eats because, pickles and mustard? Really?

After four nights in a row, he's taken to making her eat them for supper before she goes to bed. He gets to sleep blissfully after that.

Until a month later when she wakes him up at four and tells him urgently to go to the store because they ran out of whipped cream for her pickles.

_Damn pickles_.

Xxx

She kicks for the first time at five months. Rachel's head is on his lap, for once not bemoaning the football match that he has on, and he's absent-mindedly rubbing his hand over her swollen (finally!) belly.

"Whoa," he starts when he feels something protruding against his palm. He looks down at his wife and her eyes are wide as she looks back at him.

"What was that?" he asks and he feels it again.

"It's the baby," she tells him giddily as she presses her palm over his. "She's kicking."

It feels surreal for a moment, like he's in one of those bad Sci Fi movies and there's a mutant growing inside of his wife. It freaks him out a little, until he remembers that duh, that's his daughter. Rachel weaves their fingers together and pulls his hand up to her lips.

When she rests their intertwined hands back on her belly, she kicks again.

It takes a few weeks to realize that she likes to kick when daddy's talking and she keeps real quiet when mommy sings. So he talks to her belly a lot, all day long, and he whispers that they're going to be a team, him and his baby girl, and they're going to have so much fun behind mommy's back and that's when Rachel would flick him playfully on the forehead.

When Rachel gets tired of the kicking, she sings. They cease immediately and in the beginning she worries that their daughter hates her voice.

"She's enamoured," he assures her.

xxx

They go shopping for baby clothes when she's six months along and she suggests it might be time for Baby Girl Hudson to get her wardrobe.

"Don't go crazy," he tells her before they step foot into the store. "We don't need eleven baby jumpers."

They walk into Pumpkin Patch and it's like new man's land, with haggard parents and screaming children everywhere. Rachel turns to look at him in alarm, but his eyes are oddly fixated on the onesie on display with "I Love Daddy" stamped across the front.

"I thought you said don't go crazy," she comments wryly two hours later when he's happily pushing a brand new stroller with big wheels (good balance) and three respectable sized shopping backs inside.

Xxx

At eight and a half months, Rachel is huge, angry and can barely move. And _cranky_. Very, very cranky.

"I just want this to be over!" she yells one night in a fit of frustration as she tried and failed to get herself up from the couch. He hastily walks over towards her to grab her arm and she pushes him away.

"I'm huge and I can barely stand up when I sit down! I can't fit into my shoes anymore! I can't go out because my _shoes_ don't fit me! I have hair all over the place! And my breasts are bigger, and it feels strange like I had implants or something! I hate this! I _hate_ this!"

She's crying hysterically on the couch and he hides his smile before her wrath could turn on him, but he can't help it. She looks adorable, his tiny wife, with her huge stomach and her swollen feet and her bigger breasts (Amen), letting out huge, five year old sobs on the couch as she stamps her foot in frustration.

He kneels down next to her and drapes one arm across her back and another under her knees and gathers her up against his chest. She sobs quietly into his neck with her arms around it the whole time he carries her to the bedroom. He puts her gently on the bed and she's looking up at him with tear-filled eyes, absolutely miserable. He leans his forehead on hers.

"Hey," he whispers softly. "Don't knock those new breasts. They're fucking awesome."

"_That's_ how you make me feel better?" she asks incredulously although a giggle escapes her lips soon after.

"You are not huge. Okay, maybe huge for _you_, but baby I promise you it's only a few weeks. And I'm here aren't I? I'll carry you anywhere you want to go," he promises.

"I have huge feet," she complains softly, without a trace of bitterness this time.

"Have you seen mine?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. She laughs.

"But I used to have dainty feet. They were cute. And dainty."

"They still are babe. Now they're just cute and dainty and swollen."

"Ugh."

"You know," he whispers softly in her ear. "She can hear you."

Instantly he sees the guilt coloring his wife's face as her hands move towards her stomach. He laughs quietly against her neck.

He helps her shave her legs. He does a spectacularly shitty job of it. But there is no earthly way for her to actually see them so it's okay. She kisses him anyway when he's done.

"Thank you."

"Anything to tamper down that rage Rach- Ow! I mean for you. Anything for you."

Xxx

She jolts him awake at three in the morning and at first he thinks, _not again, no more late night pickles_!, but then he hears her say baby time and he's springing up to his feet in a flash. She's groaning at the contractions, but she's smiling to and his heart is hammering Rock Metal against his chest. He kneels on the floor to help her up and he just has to say it.

"We're ready," he tells her, his eyes shining with anticipation.

"We're ready," she repeats.

Here comes Lily.

Xxx

She screams loud, painful screams that seem to rip right out of her throat and he's whispering in her ear that she's doing great_. _

_Just a little more baby. _

_She's coming Rach. _

_You're doing great. _

_You're amazing. _

_IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou_.

He's telling her she's going to be okay but really, he's ..

She groans and screams as she pushes again and it's been what, two hours? He'd lost the feel of his hand an hour back when she had pretty much squeezed it boneless. He really, really wishes that Lily will come out soon because he's ready to pass out if it isn't for the fact that Rachel _will_ kill him if he does.

Never again, he swears to himself. Never again is he putting his wife through this much torture and pain because . There is a baby-sized _baby_ coming out of her- her_ vagina_ and how the fuck is that _possible,_ he had thought until he realized that doctor Zanki was fucking _cutting_ something under there and no, it wasn't the umbilical cord.

"Finn!" she screams "I can't do this anymore!"

"You can baby, you can," he assures her urgently, repeatedly kissing her forehead as she squeezes his hand even harder.

"Let it out!" she screams at the doctor. "_Letitoutletitoutletitout_!"

"Push Rachel. One more honey, just one more," Dr Zanki says calmly and Finn wonders how he's not freaking the fuck out. He wonders why everyone else is not freaking the fuck out. What the fuck is wrong with these people?

He doesn't hear it. He's too focused on trying not to black out and trying to tell Rachel that she's amazing and he doesn't hear it at first. Not until Rachel's crying and laughing and looking up at him in exhaustion.

"She's here," she whispers, her voice hoarse.

"What?" he asks dazedly.

xxx

Rachel's exhausted and knocked out cold on the hospital bed and he's exhausted and waiting for the feeling to return to his limp hand as he slumps against the chair next to her bed. Nurse Avery comes in and smiles at him and she's rolling in Lily. He jumps up immediately.

"I'll just leave her here for a while," Nurse Avery says and he smiles at her gratefully. She leaves and he's staring at the tiny little form bundled in pink. She's tiny, Lily. Really, really tiny. She was wailing bloody murder in the delivery room, covered in blood and some white substance he didn't even want to know the name of, and they took her away while he was still in a daze.

But she's clean now, and she's quiet and she's tiny.

He picks her up carefully and rocks her back and forth before he settles himself back into the chair.

"Hey there," he says quietly. "Hey there Lily. You wore your mommy out."

He stares at her tiny face a little longer and pulls back the pink blanket to count her fingers and her toes because that's what people always check right? To look for ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes? He bundles her up again and smiles.

"I feel like an introduction is in order. I mean, we haven't officially introduced ourselves yet, what with you being occupied with all that crying and me waiting for my blood circulation to return. Anyway, I'm Finn. You can call me daddy, or dad, whichever you prefer. That woman over there on that bed is Rachel, and she's your mommy. And you," he whispers, tracing a finger over the delicate features of her face. "You're Lily. Lily Eva Hudson. You're the kid, just so you know. And we, the three of us, we're a family."

"You know Lily, I think you have my nose. That definitely did not come from Rachel," he tells her, grazing his knuckle softly over the bridge of her tiny nose. "And that's mommy's mouth. And maybe you'll get my height. Not so tall though, 'cause being freakishly tall sucks sometimes. You'll get your mom's talent, she's amazing you know, and-"

Lily opens her eyes, for just a second, and he thinks she's looking right at him. She's looking right at him even though everybody is going to tell him that's not possible. He knows. He laughs softly because he's so ridiculously happy that he could streak into every room in this hospital and shout it out loud, but he can't, so he laughs.

"That's your mommy's eyes, you got those heart-melting eyes. I'm never going to say no to you, am I? We'll discuss this later. Welcome home Lily."

Xxx

"How are you so much better at this than me?" Rachel grumbles two days later when Lily comes home with them. He grins as he pulls the onesie down and buttons it up before scooping Lily up and handing her to his wife.

"Have you forgotten about my baby-sitting prowess?" he jokes.

"How could I forget about Sam and her love-struck ways," Rachel mutters as she holds their daughter close.

"You have no idea how many diapers I have changed in my life," he boasts as she rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue at him.

"Good. So you're on diaper duty," she says primly and turns around.

"Hey!"

"Well you know I'm never going to be as good as you at this," she answers as she bats her eyelashes and uses Lily as her shield. He stares at her as she shoots him a devilish grin and walks away, at a loss for words, wondering how he just managed to get himself saddled with changing diapers for the next two years of his life.

Xxx

Lily smiles for the first time after Rachel fed her. She's trying to get her to burp and he sees the smile on that pretty little face.

Okay, so it's really gas.

It's still pretty.

xxx

Lily is a crier. She really loves crying.

She doesn't discriminate either.

Morning, afternoon, night, twilight, dawn, she cries through all of them.

Rachel's close to crying herself and his friends from the office have been giving him all these knowing and sympathetic looks and he thinks it's because of the Zombie-like way he moves through the day.

But Perry Como always does the trick. He thinks their daughter's a genius. It's only fitting that his stargazer's favorite lullaby is Catch a Falling Star.

He just wishes he doesn't have to sing it on a continuous loop all through the night.

Xxx

He wakes up in the middle of the night when Lily turns one month old to find Rachel missing. He's about to get up and look for her when he hears her to through the baby monitor.

"_Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away." _

He grins and lies back down, listening to her voice as it lulls him back to sleep.

Xxx

Lily gets sick for the first time when she's three months old. She gets a cold and she's retching and crying her tiny little heart out and they take turns to hold her through the night.

Rachel wakes him up at three, mumbles that it's his turn and he walks blindly towards the nursery.

He should have known that something is wrong when she's not crying. He reaches her cot and picks her up and she's not breathing. He looks down in confusion and Lily has her eyes and her mouth open, but she's not breathing.

_OhGod._

Her face is blue.

"Rachel!" The yell tears right out of his throat and he feels his heart stop beating. Rachel comes skidding in, bleary eyed, seconds later.

"What happened?" she asks in a panic and he's still holding their daughter in his arms, frozen in fear. He doesn't know what happened, but Lily's ripped out from his arms and Rachel's carrying her over to the rocking chair and she's turning their baby over on her lap and _he can't think_.

His mind is still paralyzed with terror. He hears Rachel muttering hysterically under her breath. Mumbling steps and procedures and _he can't think_.

Seconds pass, or maybe minutes, he can't be sure.

But it feels like light-years.

He hears a tiny cough, and then a loud wail.

Rachel's crying along with Lily as she holds her close and he doesn't know how he's managing it, but he's walking over to them, falling on his knees in front of them, and he's crying too.

"I- I-" He can't speak, can't think, but he hears Lily crying and he's never, ever going to complain about her volume ever again.

"Infant CPR," Rachel chokes out as he presses his forehead against hers, their still living, still breathing daughter carefully cradled in between them, her cries receding. Rachel takes another shuddering breath and sobs again. "I was the best student in that class."

He looks up at her crying face and kisses her fiercely, and he knows that his wife is going to be his hero for the rest of his life.

Xxx

Lily smiles for real when she's four months old and he's changing her diaper and making stupid faces. He sticks out his tongue and flares his nose and he sees her smile as she holds up her pudgy little hands towards him.

He grins and blows raspberries on her belly and Lily laughs for the first time.

Xxx

Rachel is crazy. She's crazy and she's insane and there's no way in hell that he's letting their daughter take swimming classes when she's six month old.

"We don't even have a pool!" he exclaims and she rolls her eyes and tells him that it's not the point. No way, he tells her.

Three days later it's a Saturday and he's driving them down to the swimming pool to meet a woman called Jenny and he's not speaking to his wife. Rachel's ignoring him and turns in her seat to coo at their daughter and Lily laughs.

He feels betrayed.

Xxx

Lily's learning to crawl at eight months, only she's doing it backwards. Her head bobs up and down like a turtle, and he laughs his ass off at the sight.

He comes home one day to a lot of squealing and opens the door to find Al and Rachel locked together in an ecstatic embrace. He raises an eyebrow at them and they're both jumping and yelling excitedly over one another and he understands absolutely nothing.

"Look! Look!" Rachel squeals, pointing to the floor. He looks down, and there's his Lily, crawling ever so slowly towards him, laughing her cute little baby laugh. He grins and drops to the floor to meet her halfway as she makes her way to him. He picks her up and gently throws her in the air, despite the sound of Rachel's alarmed cries, and laughs jubilantly.

"Go Lily!" he crowed, picking up one of her tiny hand and giving her a little victorious fist bump.

Xxx

She is ten months old and he sits on the bleachers and watches Rachel and Lily in the swimming pool, Rachel listening intently to every word coming out of Jenny's mouth and Lily, happily splashing her hands in the water.

Suddenly, Rachel lets go of their daughter and Lily's submerged in the water and he's standing up, about to yell '_What the hell are you doing?_', but Lily turns by herself and she's floating calmly in the pool.

He staggers back down against the bench and thinks that ten years have just been taken from his life.

Xxx

At eleven months old, Lily is an expert crawler. She's like a ninja and she pops up everywhere, leaving a trail of soft toys and baby blankets in her wake.

They lose her on a Sunday morning when Rachel leaves an undressed Lily to answer the phone for thirty seconds and turns around to find her gone.

"Finn!" she yells hysterically and he runs out of their room in only his towel to find his wife bent over the couch and yelling his name repeatedly.

"What?"

"Lily's gone!" she exclaims, in a panic when she sees him.

"What do you mean, gone?"

"I mean I can't find her! She's gone!"

His eyes widen at her words and he's hurrying his way over to her when he catches something out of the corner of his eye. He turns and sees the half-opened door on the bottom rack of Rachel's linen cupboard, and strides quickly towards it.

He pulls it open to find Lily on her back, her favorite blanket in one fist, surrounded by towels.

She sees him and beams.

xxx

Lily turns one and the whole family flies down to New York. His mom and her fathers are cooing over her like she's the best thing in the world and Lily basks in all the attention. She's her mother's daughter alright.

He stands next to his wife in the kitchen as she carefully places a big candle (shaped into a pink butterfly carrying the number one) on the cake, and grabs her by the waist to tip her back and kiss her senseless.

"What's that for?" she asks when he pulls away and he grins.

"You look beautiful," he says simply. She nudges his shoulder and blushes prettily and he laughs. Rachel leads the Birthday song as they walk out and Al blinds him with his big, expensive, professional camera. Lily's sitting in her chair and she has ribbons in her hair that her mom had so painstakingly tied earlier, and her dress is stained with spaghetti sauce. They stand on either side of her, Rachel holding Lily's hand to stop her from swiping the cake.

"Blow out your candle baby," she tells Lily and Lily laughs as he blows it out for her. Al blinds Finn with his flash again and everybody's talking over each other when Lily says her first word.

"Wow."

He looks at Rachel and she looks at him and she's ordering everybody in the room to shut up before she kneels down on the floor.

"What did you just say Lily?" Rachel asks.

"Wow," Lily says again, smiling brightly.

His kid is a genius.


	22. His night

A pair of small hands tugs his gently. He looks down and Rachel's shining eyes drowns out the roar of the crowd. They did it. They gave it their best. And they were _great_. Ecstatic, he pulls her towards him and wraps his arms tightly around her tiny body. Adrenaline were pumping the blood in his veins and Finn thinks that maybe this could finally be their night. His night. Everything is going perfectly. He killed the performance (Did you _see_ the moves he pulled on that stage? He _danced_. He actually _danced_. Maybe Mr Schue was right. Maybe there is something in his dance moves.), the crowd is going wild for them and the best thing of all, he got the girl. What could be better than this? Rachel's tiny hands are at his waist and her breathless giggle reverberates against his chest. _Nothing_. That's what.

He realizes that everyone else is already walking off the stage. He reluctantly lets go of the girl in his arms and takes her hand. Their gazes catch one another and a slow grin starts to spread on both of their faces. He leads her to the left of the stage, towards the exit, the warmth of her hand keeping his smile in place. As they reach backstage, Mercedes whoops and wrenches Rachel out of his grasp to pull her into a hug. The gesture puts him out a little but he laughs when both girls begin to jump up and down, screaming incoherently. Tina joins them and it turns into a frenzy of squeals and laughter until the woman in charge shushes them and tells them to leave. He finds himself walking behind Brittany, Rachel's incessant chatter constantly filling his ears.

"Screw that, we are going to _win_ this thing!" she exclaims through gritted teeth and he grins as he remembers last Monday when he had promised her the very same thing and she had silenced him into stupefication with that mind-blowing kiss. He walks into their dressing room and hangs back, waiting for her to enter. Rachel walks in, still completely absorbed by her conversation with the effervescent Asian, her hands gesturing wildly around her. She almost smacks Artie in the head, but the boy smoothly ducks out of her path. Finn snickers as he watches her, completely oblivious to his presence.

He's going to fix that. He hears a commotion going on outside but ignores it, prefering to direct all of his attention to the tiny bundle of energy in front of him instead. She's still talking to herself, not realizing that Tina has already left her to go and stand by Artie. Quietly, he saunters over until he stands directly behind her. He leans down so that his mouth is at level with her ear.

"Hey," he says, his voice low. She jumps and whips around, her eyes registering surprise. The beam on her face when she sees him is blinding.

"Hi!" she replies brightly. They stand there, grinning like idiots for a few seconds until she squeals and throws her arms around his neck, jumping a little in the process. He staggers in surprise but places both hands firmly at her waist to hold her steady. "You were amazing," she whispers against his ear. He grins, his hands gripping her waist tighter, just a little.

"So were you," he whispers back into her neck, his breath creating goosebumps on her skin. "We both were," he adds as he finally sets her down. Her eyes are shining as she stares up into his face. "Rach that duet was-" He stops, searching his brain for the right word. The one word that could convey exactly how he feels.

"Awesome?" she supplies, her eyes twinkling. Finn grins and reaches out to touch her face as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Totally." He smiles at her. She smiles at him. It's nice. They've never done this before, the whole _We're happy!, We're in love! _thing. She takes his hand in hers and squeezes it tight. He wonders why they both can't seem to find the words. He knows she's probably thinking of the same thing he is. That 45 second vacuum right before the performance of their lives when he had told her he loves her. That's right. He. Loves. Her. A determined expression crosses her face and he braces himself as she opens her mouth to speak.

"Finn-"

"Oh my god! Quinn's having her baby! Quinn's having her baby!" Finn is still staring into her face intently as he hangs on to every word she's preparing to say. The startled look on her face brings him back to the present as Artie's terrified screech finally filters into his mind. _What? _He's pulled back into the real world and they're in their dressing room again and it's not just the two of them aymore.

He looks around him. Everyone else in the room is flailing, running around in chaos as half of the room begin to scream one incoherent order over another. The other half of the room just stands still and terrified. This half includes Puck, who is standing in the corner. He looks at Quinn, one arm around Mercedes and the other around her mother, like she was Dracula, coming down to suck his blood or something.

"Do something!" she yells at him, her voice filled with raw pain that causes both Puck and Finn to flinch. And suddenly there's Mr Schue and thank God for him, because Finn thinks Puck looks just pale enough to drop dead on the floor in front of him right then. In a loud, thunderous voice, he orders everyone to calm down and shut up. It always works when he does it for some reason.

"Alright this is what's going to happen! Puck, Mike find the bus driver and tell him to get the engine running. Now. Mercedes and- who are you?" Mr Schue asks, confused as he stares at Quinn's mom. Yeah. What the hell_ is_ Quinn's mom doing here?

"I'm Quinn's mother," Mrs Fabray answers nervously, wincing as her daughter grips one shoulder a little too strongly.

"Yeah okay. You two, help her out. The rest of you come with me. Silently!" he orders when the noise in the room starts to pick up again. Finn grips Rachel's hand and pulls her along with him to follow the rest of the crowd.

"Crap!" he hears Mr Schue mutter. "Someone needs to stay." He feels her hand fall away from his. He realizes she never gripped his back in the first place.

"I'll do it Mr Schue," he hears her tentative voice say behind him. Finn turns in surprise. Rachel looks steadily at their teacher and avoids his gaze.

"Are you sure?" Mr Schue asks, frowning. She nods her head vigorously.

"Someone needs to represent New Directions here. As the leader, that responsibility lies on my abled and willing shoulders. I'll stay." She smiles brightly at their teacher and just something in the way she's beaming like crazy throws him off.

"Great. Thanks Rachel. We'll be back as soon as we can. C'mon Finn!" Mr Schue leaves and it's just the two of them. He turns to look at her. She's still staring blankly at the empty doorway.

"Hey." She turns to him. "Do you want me to stay? With you?" he adds as an afterthought and mentally berates himself. Duh. Idiot. He watches as the hope flits through her features before it gives way to a resolute expression. She reaches up to place a hand on his jaw and smiles softly.

"I'll be fine," she says, her fingers grazing softly against his skin. "You should go. It's Drizzle's birthday." He grins. She remembers. She calls the baby Drizzle too. If he wasn't sure before, he's definitely sold on the idea now. He's crazy in love with her.

"Are you sure?" he asks quietly, feeling it in his guts that there was something wrong with Rachel. She nods.

"I'll hold down the forte. I know how important this is for you. You should go Finn." Her face becomes more determined with each sentence and she's already looking at him as if her decision is final. He nods his head and smiles at her. He takes the hand that's on his jaw and grips it tightly before letting go.

"Okay," he says. He turns to leave. As he walks out of the door, five steps into the doorway, he turns around. Rachel is just standing there awkwardly, staring at his retreating figure, her hands clasped in front of her like a good little school girl. He doesn't need to see to know that her knuckles are white from the grip.

In a split second, he's already walking back towards her, his steps confident and purposeful. She looks up at him in surprise as he grabs her by the shoulders and pulls her in for a tight hug. She just looks like she needs it.

"I'll be back, okay?" he mumbles into her hair. He feels her nod against his chest, her hands circling his waist to keep him close. Dropping a soft kiss on her forehead, he shoots her one final smile before he lets go and turns around.

He sprints all the way to the bus, making it just in time behind Brittany once again, as she makes her way up the bus steps.

The bus ride is scary. And awkward. It's the longest ten minutes of his life with Quinn screaming expletives at his bestfriend every thirty seconds and Puck looking like he is _this _close to throwing up. Everybody else keeps to an almost creepy silence. He can't help the thought that flashes through his mind. One wrong decision, one kept secret and it's _him_ standing in Puck's place. It's _him_ Quinn is yelling at and it's _him_ who's anxiously waiting for his baby to meet the world. He sits alone at the back of the bus. Finn takes out his phone and calls Rachel. She's not picking up. He frowns. He calls three more times in a span of two minutes and finally resigns himself to a text.

(Are you okay?)

He waits for her reply until they arrive at the hospital and he forgets because someone needs to slap the back of Puck's head to get him to move. He does so willingly. Hard. Puck shoots him a dirty glare but he seems to have come to his senses as he jumps out of the bus and grips the back of the wheelchair they have placed Quinn on. Finn follows behind them nervously. The fact that this situation could have been his so easily is still fresh in his mind and it's too bizarre for him to comprehend.

He goes through the next twenty minutes in a daze. If his life is a movie, then this would be the part where everything and everyone moves in fastforward mode and he keeps to a normal pace. The whole thing is just so cazy. Finn finds himself pulled back into real time when the phone in his hand starts buzzing. He looks down immediately, thinking that it's Rachel. He feels himself deflating when he realizes that it's only his mom, wishing him and Kurt good luck. He turns to the pale boy sitting on the couch and passes on the message a little curtly, slightly annoyed that Rachel still hasn't acknowledged his text. He sends her another one.

(Hey. What's going on? Are you mad at me or something?)

Fifty minutes later and he has been pacing back and forth in the waiting area for the past twenty minutes, wearing out the carpeting of the hospital floor. He looks around him to find the rest of New Directions, all in one form of anxiety or another. Kurt, Artie and Santana are all sitting down with magazines in their hands. But he notices that she's been on the same page for the past five minutes and if Artie's actually reading his, then he must have super speed. Mike and Tina are both standing awkwardly next to each other with similar worried expressions on both their faces. And Brittany. Well, Finn really isn't sure _what_ she's doing exactly, and he doesn't think he really wants to know either. He sighs and moves to sit on the chair behind Mr Schue.

How much longer is this going to take anyway? Doesn't Drizzle want to come out? Well maybe not. He guesses that if he knew he's going to come out and be given away to some stranger, he'd probably want to hang out in his mom's womb for a while too. If Rachel was here, she'd probably be talking his ear off, telling him that it's normal for labor to go on for this long or giving him a play by play of a birthing tape she watched once or something. The silence is deafening.

"The judges are deliberating," Mr Schue's tired voice speaks up suddenly. He frowns at his teacher's back.

"How'd you know?" he asks curiously.

"Rachel's been keeping me up to date. Vocal Adrenaline finished their performance ten minutes ago." _Well_. There goes his hope that she left her phone at home down the freaking toilet.

Finn feels a whole other level of anxiety creeping up on him. Is she ignoring him? Why? Oh God what if he freaked out by telling her he loves her? But she seemed to like it at the time. More than liked it. She looked exactly like he felt and that was pure, unfiltered joy. So why the hell is she not replying to any of his messages? Or his phone calls for that matter?

Just as he's about to start getting worked up, the double doors of the delivery room flew open and then there's Puck, looking like he just went through hell and back. He's just standing there as the whole group rushes him, everyone talking all at once. Finn hangs back uncomfortably and watches as they bombard Puck with one question after another.

"She's tiny," Puck finally says, his voice hoarse. "And wrinkly. And crap, there's a shitload of blood." There's silence for about three-quarters of a second as everybody tries to find a response to _that _and then they're off again.

"Give the boy room to breathe," Mr Schue orders, holding them back and letting Puck move forward. Puck looks about as freaked out as Finn's feeling, so he moves forward too to pat his friend on the back a little awkwardly. God knows he wishes Rachel was there to comfort _him_.

"They asked me if I wanted to hold her," Puck says, a little distractedly, like he's talking to himself. "But _damn _she's so tiny, I'd crush her." He looks up and their eyes meet, and there's something that looks like guilt in his friend's eyes that causes Finn to look away immediately. Mr Schue puts an arm around Puck and tells him that maybe he should sit down. But there's no time to because the doors swing open again and there's a nurse pushing Drizzle in that little rolling basket-thingies he sees on TV and now everybody is rushing towards _her_ and once again Finn hangs back, wondering why his heart is thumping so crazily against his chest.

They follow the annoyed nurse all the way to the nursery, hot on her heels and he follows blindly, wishing like crazy that Rachel would magically appear to hold his hand. They crowd outside of the nursery in silence, occasionally pushing and shoving one another so that every single one of them could get a good look through the glass. He's tall so he stands at the back and gives Artie his place instead.

Puck wasn't lying. She's the teeniest, _tiniest_ human he's ever seen. He could probably fit all of her in the palm of his hand, he thinks, and holds up his right hand to compare. Puck is smaller. So the chances of him crushing the kid is probably slimmer than Finn's. It's a good thing Puck's the real father then. He's less of a walking disaster anyway. But then it hits him like a ton of bricks that Puck's not going to be holding Drizzle either. Not for long anyway. Some stranger's going to scoop her up and take her away. Some stranger who probably has steady hands and knows the right way to hold a baby.

He turns his head to the left to look at Puck and sees the boy with his head leaning against the glass. He looks like shit. He watches as Puck heaves a little sigh and suddenly he's propelled back to somewhere months and months ago when Drizzle was still his and Quinn's telling him that they're giving their baby away. He was still reeling over that blow when Rachel had turned his world upside down with the truth. He had thought that was the worst thing ever. The possibility of giving your own kid away to some random people you don't even know. But now his hypothetical situation is Puck's reality.

Relief washes over him like a cathartic rainfall. It's not him. It's not his baby. She's not his to give away. He looks at the tag on her little foot that says Puckerman and he feels the weight that has been pressing down on his shoulders lift and dissapear into thin air. Or maybe it just falls on to Puck's shoulders. He thinks he'll probably never see Drizzle again. But that's okay. She'll always be special, just like Rachel said. She's just not a burden to bear anymore, not a regret that he'll carry around with him for the rest of his life.

He has Rachel to thank for that, for a lot of things he's grateful for. And he intends to thank her. Once she picks up her damn phone and finally _replies_. Finn frowns as he grips the phone in his pocket tightly. This night is so not going the way it's supposed to. He almost snorts when he realizes that his life _never_ goes as planned when Rachel Berry is involved.

"We have to go guys," Mr Schue says quietly. "The judges will decide soon." They say their goodbyes to Puck and sends him their well wishes for Quinn. The walk back to the bus is filled with excited chatter but Finn ignores them all, wondering if maybe he doesn't have the girl after all. The thought is making him nervous. Really, _really_ nervous. The driver starts the engine and is about to move when Matt yells that Puck is coming. He looks out the window, and sure enough there's Puck, running towards them in full speed. He reaches the bus and wheezes out that Quinn forced him to either go with them or suffer the consequences of her wrath.

"Are you okay?" Mr Schue asks him, once the bus started moving, looking at him in worry. "You've been awfully quiet."

"I'm fine," Finn answers, forcing a smile on his face. _Just trying to forget the possibility that I just made a fool out of myself in front of Rachel and that she probably doesn't want to see me now, is all. _

They arrive at the venue in the nick of time and Rachel's waiting for them outside of their dressing room. He feels his heart skip a beat when he sees her and walks just a little faster. He notices the slight swell around her eyes and wonders if she's been crying. He wonders if it's because of him. Maybe he should have kept his trap shut. She smiles at them, a wobbly attempt, and takes Mercedes's hand as she tells them the rest of the teams are already on stage. Now he knows for sure that she's avoiding him because she hasn't made any eye contact since he first laid eyes on her.

He lets the others pass him by and walks next to Mr Schue, his eyes firmly glued to the back of her head. He knows she's talking a mile a minute by the way her head was bobbing up and down and the way Mercedes keeps nodding. But there was something decidedly un-Rachel about her. She's not walking like Rachel. There's no bounce going on and it looks like her steps feel heavy. Finn feels a little sick at the thought that it might be because of him. Maybe she doesn't feel the same way. Maybe that was what she tried to say earlier before the whole Quinn-going-into-labor thing got in the way. Maybe she was trying to turn him down. And he's the douchebag thinking everything is just peachy. Holy. _Shit_. He swallows the mortified groan back down his throat.

They walk up the stairs to the stage and the room burts into applause. They stood at the right end corner and Finn is thankful that Aural Intensity is in the middle because St Jackass's face is far, far away from his fists (Sometimes his body just moves out of automatic reflex, accidentally-on-purpose.). He stands at the edge, behind Mr Schue and anxiously waits for the results to come. They're going to place. They're _going_ to. Or glee club's a goner. And that's just impossible. So they're _going_ to place. Yup.

Sue Sylvester walks past him and suddenly he regrets ever posting that stupid video of her online in the first place. Because Rachel told him about this thing called karma once, when some cheerio had slushied her and stained her new polar bear print blouse. She said everything you do always comes back to bite you in the ass. Well, she didn't exactly put it_ that _way, but that's the gist of it. Anyway, the karma thing's a bitch and he sure as hell does _not_ want to be served with it.

He sees the asshole looking at Rachel and suddenly everything's like a million shades redder. That's _his_ girlfriend St Jackass is staring at. _His_. Maybe he should tell Rachel that. That she's his girl now. And that he's just going to keep thinking of her as his girl even if it turns out that he's not hers. Boy, he means. Not girl. Shelby Corcoran is standing next to that lowlife and Finn wonders if the whole egging-her-daughter thing went right past her head. Because he sure as hell won't be so chummy with the boy that egged _his_ kid. If he had one, anyway. Duh. He wonders why all these thoughts are cropping up in his head right_ now _when they're just seconds away from finding out the fate of Glee, and by extension, them.

His eyes are screwed shut and his heart is beating from his stomach and Sue Sylvester's voice feels like a foghorn to his brain.

They didn't place.

They didn't place. He doesn't look up to see how the rest are doing. He doesn't try to find her and see the heartbroken expression on her face. He doesn't really care. They didn't place and glee is over. For good. He remembers just hours before when he had stupidly thought they were going to make it, that it was going to be their night. His. He should have known he's not going to catch a break. He never does anyway. They lost, glee is over and Rachel won't even look at him. This night is a disaster.

The walk back to their dressing room is about as opposite as it could get from the one earlier. Nobody says a word. _Nobody_. He's leading the way with Mr Schue next to him and all he hears is the occasional sniffle from behind him. He doesn't have to turn around to know that it's not Rachel's. He's a little pissed at her to be honest. Sure, he was worried in the beginning, but seriously there are better ways to let a person down than to just leave him hanging like this.

They change in total silence.

They walk toward the bus in total silence.

They sit in total silence.

He takes a seat at the back of the bus, away from everyone, away from Rachel. She tried to talk to him when they were walking in the parking lot but he had shrugged her off. Let's see how _she_ likes it. The bus begins to move and he leans his head back against his seat and closes his eyes. It's been a fucking long day and he's exhausted. And that hot, prickling feeling in the back of his eyes, what the hell is up with that anyway?

The bus lurches and he hears a squeal as a warm body falls against his. His eyes are still closed but he knows its her. He could catch her scent anywhere (Whatever, that's not creepy. It _isn't_.). He refuses to open his eyes as he feels her quickly right herself. They sit next to each other, not touching for maybe two minutes, his eyes still firmly shut and his hands over his chest. He hears her little sigh and her small hand is on his thigh.

"Finn," she says softly. He doesn't budge. "I'm sorry," she whispers and there's just enough break in her voice to make him melt. He turns his head towards her and opens his eyes. She's looking back at him and the look on her face kind of kills him because she looks about as depressed as he feels.

"I'm sorry," she says again as she moves closer towards him. He can feel her breath on his face, they're so close. So losing must be the most effective turn off ever since he's not even thinking kissing her right now. He just wants an explanation. God he's being such a _girl_.

"Is it me?" he asks softly. She knows what he means. Of course she does. "Is it because of me?" Rachel shakes her head vigorously, her tears spilling out of her eyes.

"You're the best thing that happened tonight," she says, the hand on his thigh moving up to his chest. She rests it over his heart and presses. The pressure comforts him. "The _best _one. It's everything else. Everything else but you."

She doesn't elaborate. He finds that he doesn't mind. It's everything but him. That's the important thing. So he smiles and sits up straight and wraps one long arm over her small shoulders. She falls into him with a small sigh and rests her head on his chest, where her hand had been. He feels his shirt getting damp and her shoulders shake in his arms. Finn takes her hand in his and rests them on his lap.

He doesn't let go until they reach the school parking lot.

The bus stops and everybody is already filing out the door. He wraps his other arm around her and squeezes hard before he lets go and stands up. There are tear tracks streaking down her face and she's looking up at him, all lost and upset. He smiles reassuringly and holds out his hand. She takes it and they make their way slowly down the bus.

"Thank you," she mumbles. His arms are around her shoulders, pulling her close and her face is kind of smushed up against his chest.

"Ditto," he whispers back. She pulls away and looks up at him in confusion.

"What did I do?" she asks, perplexed. _Everything_, he thought.

"Just ditto," he answers instead, laughing softly at the pout the spreads across her lips.

He makes Kurt wait until her parents arrive. They're the only three people left when he finally sees her car pull into the parking lot. She wraps her arm around his waist and pulls him in for a hug, breathing in his scent deeply before she pulls away and says a soft goodbye. She waves at Kurt, who was standing behind him in total boredom, and starts to walk away. It hits him that he still hasn't asked her yet.

"Rach!" he yells. She stops and turns. He jogs towards her. She's looking at him expectantly when he reaches her.

"We're together right?" he asks. Her brows crease in confusion.

"Together?"

"Yeah," he says, a little embarassed. He really needs to learn the proper way to say things. "Together. You know. Me and you. We're together. Right?" The beam that grows on her face seems to light up the whole place.

"Yes Finn," she says softly, barely contained giddiness lacing her voice. "We're together."

He grins like an idiot when she jumps a little to kiss his cheek before continuing her way to her waiting fathers. He doesn't even care that Rachel has _two_ dads and they _both_ just saw their daughter kiss him.

See? What did he say? It's his night. _His_.


	23. The girl who was slushied

She sees him standing there, in front of her locker, and stops short. He leans back against the metal doors, slouching slightly with his hands in his pockets. Rachel could feel the rush of blood flowing through her veins, the increase of her heart beats that comes with the realization that this is really happening. This isn't a dream.

Together. They're together. At least, that was what he said.

She hasn't seen him since that night when he had told her he loves her and catapulted her world into a frenzy of heightened senses. Rachel could still remember every single touch, every single glance that he had sent her way. Even during the times she had determinedly ignored him, she could still feel the intensity of his stare drilling a hole in the back of her head. She had held on to those words like a lifeline, the memory of those precious seconds they shared the only beacon of light in all the darkness that surrounded her. It was the only thing that kept her from crumpling to the floor in a broken heap because someone loves her. Not just someone, but Finn. Finn loves her.

_Somehow, in those minutes between his promise to come back and the text he had sent, the moment had been maginifed in her mind. And she had been certain, absolutely convinced that it had been too good to be true. Because spontaneous confessions of love just didn't happen to someone like Rachel Berry. Not unless it was followed by another confession that was sure to break her heart. It was a constant pattern in her life. _

_She was the girl who was slushied. The piece of gum stuck at the bottom of a shoe. The bottom of the lowest rung in the social ladder. That was her E! True Hollywood story. The girl who overcame the challenges of social stigma to rise as the brightest star of her generation. She had spent the first fifteen years of her life firmly holding on to that belief, ignoring every jab and every twist of the imaginary sword that came her way. She learned to turn every insult into a stepping stone. After all, it was always the underdog who wins the heart of the audience. If she was lonely, well who needs friends when you're a star?_

_It was only a matter of time before she broke._

_Because he kissed her, and he ran. Told her he wanted to spend more time with her, and Quinn was pregnant. Kissed her and made it official, and told her he didn't want to be her boyfriend. And then there was Jesse, who told her he was crazy about her, who changed schools for her and made her believe that it was all real. And that had ended with her alone in the school parking lot, the slight throb on her forehead and the stench that surrounded her mocking her for being so delusional as to believe that anybody could ever love her. She found her mother. And then lost her again._

_**If I were your parents, I'd ask for my money back**. That was a comment that popped up on her MySpace once. A cheerio, of course. Probably Quinn. And oddly, it was the only thing that kept repeating through her brain as she sat alone in their dressing room. They can't, she thought cynically. Because apparently she was a non-refundable good. The truth was, she was the girl who got slushied. And sometimes when no one was around, Rachel truly did believe that she was as unlovable as they claimed._

_And because she was the kind of person who clung stubbornly to routine, she turned away from him that night. Ran the oposite way from his confession and his promise. She ignored his texts and phone calls, and she ran towards her mother instead. Because that heartbreak was expected, that heartbreak was inevitable (Though it didnt hurt an less when it actually happened)._

_It took only one look at his face for her to regret everything._

_She avoided him like the plague when he came back, always turning the other way when he tried to catch her eye and dragged a confused Mercedes away as she blathered on and on about God knows what._

_She stood on that stage with the three people responsible for the mess in her head. On the one side stood Jesse and her mother, the dynamic duo. The dream team for the operation Crush Rachel Berry. And on the other was him. The first boy she had ever truly, desperately wanted. The first person who ever made her feel welcomed, her first real friend. The first person to ever truly made her feel unlovable. The first person who ever told her he loves her. He was the only person she knew well, but could never, ever figure out. All these thoughts stifled her and she almost suffocated, right there on that stage._

_It was as she was walking down the stage, after the final disaster to end her perfect night, that she caught the droop of his shoulders. He walked forlornly beside their teacher. His steps were heavy and his feet dragged against the linoleum. She wondered if she was responsible for any of the weight that seemed to wear him down. Their gazes had finally met when he had turned at the same time she was staring at the back of his head. He had looked surprised for a second before his expression changed into one that dropped her heart to the bottom of her feet and froze her. The hurt on his face was palpable, like an actual physical blow. He had turned away immediately and she knew she made a mistake. She was trying to protect her heart, but she had only hurt his instead._

_She tried to talk to him on the way to the bus and he shrugged her off without a glance, his eyes focused firmly straight ahead. He sat at the back of the bus alone, and it was only after the vehicle began to move, did she gather enough courage to go to him. It took just one heartfelt apology for him to forgive her and she knew then that he meant those words. The realization was like a bulldozer to the walls she had put up around her. Her carefully pieced together self finally crumbled into a blubbering mess in his arms. _

_She cried the whole way back. _

_He never let go once._

And now there he is, leaning against her locker, waiting for her as if he's done it his whole life. She takes a deep breath and steps closer. He turns his head at the right moment and the boredom on his face gives way to the brightest smile anyone has ever given her.

"Rach!" he yells, all six feet away as he picks up his backpack off the floor and amble towards her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see some residents of McKinley turn at his call, some with confusion in their eyes. He stops right in front of where she's still frozen and towers over her with that grin still in place.

"Hi," she says breathlessly once she's found her voice. This is the first time they've seen each other since the night they came together. Officially. To be honest, she doesn't really know what to expect. Half of her still expects to see him walk around the halls like Saturday night had never happened, like everything is just in her head.

"Hi," he answers exuberantly.

And he takes her hand.

Like it was the most natural thing in his world. Like they've been holding hands forever. She couldn't help that little flutter in her chest once his big palm closes in on hers and envelopes it completely. She stares at their intertwined hands as he pulls her along. He's telling her something, but all Rachel could pay attention to is at the feel of his warm fingers against her skin. Holding her breath, she slowly threads her fingers between his. He grips the back of her hand like it was reflex. The smile on her face totally gives her away to anyone who's willing to look.

"So, Kurt and I've got a plan," he finishes excitedly and she feels guilty for not listening to anything that he's been saying.

"A plan?" she asks, trying to piece together what he means.

"Yeah. Well, I told him about how bummed I was and how I wished we could show Mr Schue how much Glee meant to us, what with it being canned and all, and he said there's this song that he thinks would do the job. So we're trying to gather everyone up and kind of do a tribute to him, you know?"

"You're really stepping into the shoes of a leader Finn," she comments, proud of his efforts. He looks down at her and smiled bashfully.

"It's what co-captains do, right?"

"Right," she agrees.

"So we're trying to get everyone to come to our place after school to talk about it. Can you come?"

"Yes," she answers without missing a beat. "Definitely."

"Awesome. So you have English now, right?"

"Yes," she answers, slightly surprised and highly flattered that he seems to remember her schedule.

"Yeah," he says at the look on her face. "I used to see St. Jackass walk you to class. I got Bio down the hall."

"Oh."

"So I'll see you later?" he asks casually, as if confessing to her that he watches her in school was just something he does everyday. She nods her head and smiles. He releases their hands.

He kisses her cheek.

"You look really pretty today," he whispers in her ear before straightening up and walking away. She could see the red tinging the back his neck. The shade probably matches her face. Rachel watches as he slips into class, turning around at the door to wave at her, before she skips into her own.

xxx

He holds her hand in the car. All the way. From the moment they pull out of the parking lot to the moment they reach the Hummels. She starts to get the feeling that maybe this boy is going to be the death of her, if the dangerous skips her heart has been doing is anything to go by.

He's happy.

He talks on and on and on about his plan with Kurt and the football season and how much harder he needs to work from now on. She doesnt think she's ever heard him talk this much before. It's like they've switched places, because she's still rendered almost speechless at the casualness of them being together.

They are the last to arrive, walking behind Mercedes and Tina on the front lawn. Kurt has been waiting patiently in the living room, his lap top perched on his lap. She takes a sit on the couch and Finn plops down next to her, their sides molding into one another. She seriously needs to stop being so hyper-aware of their physical proximity because it has been messing with her brain the whole day. She catches Mercedes looking with an almost smirk on her face.

Kurt calls the meeting to order and plays the song for all of them to hear. It truly is perfect. She doesn't admit this, but she had been doubting their abilities to find the right song. Clearly, she underestimated them because To Sir With Love is one of the most beautiful tributes in the English language and she hadn't even thought about it. She hadn't really been thinking about Mr Schue in the first place. Rachel just has a lot on her plate.

Tina suggests that they all sit in a semi-circle in the auditorium and take turns telling Mr Schue how Glee club changed their life. Puck rolls his eyes and asks her if maybe after that they can go paint their nails together. But he doesn't exactly reject the idea, so they're sticking with it. She wonders if they have always been this creative, if maybe all those times she took the reigns because nobody else would, was just because she never gave them the chance to prove themselves. It's really too bad. She thinks that if they still had Glee, she'll give them that chance willingly.

Artie says they should make it more heartfelt, tell Mr Schue what their lives were really like before Glee in one dramatic statement. Kurt brings out the sheet music and she looks at it in bewilderment to find her name on most of the verses. Finn smiles at her disbelief and Kurt refuses to meet her wondering gaze when he says "Your voice fits the song best."

"Thanks," she says softly, touched by the gesture, even if it really isn't all that personal. But this is Kurt, who has never not gone out of his way to make sure she gets the short end of the stick. Glee really has changed them all. They rehearse for hours because they have only two days to get this done. Wednesday is going to be their last day as Glee clubbers before their classroom will be given away to the Mock U.N.. Mike asks if Quinn will be there and Puck tells them he'll make sure of it.

It feels just like another assignment and for a while she thinks they all forget that it isn't. That this is goodbye. The room becomes much quieter towards the end and their last run-through isn't filled with as much gusto as the first ten times (If she had her way, they wouldn't leave until they've done at least fifteen. But everybody else preferred to have dinner instead of perfection).

"Hey," he calls out as he holds on to her arm. They are at the door of her car. She's the last to leave. She turns her face up towards him expectantly. He looks at her solemnly and she thinks it's the first time since this morning that something like anxiety is gracing his features.

"What is it?" she asks when he still hasn't spoken.

"What are you doing tomorrow? After school, I mean."

"Nothing. I mean I have ballet. But the class has been canceled."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So do you want to work on that statement thing Artie was talking about?"

"Together?" she asks. He shrugs, embarrassed.

"Yeah." Rachel beams up at him and takes his hand.

"My parents won't be home until dinner," she says "They have a late meeting tomorrow." His face breaks out into that beautiful smile she is starting to get used to.

"Cool. So I'll wait for you by your locker?"

"Three fifteen. I need to see Miss Shaw about my last History assignment. My grade was unsatisfactory."

"Right. So it's a date?" She feels herself start to blush as she squeezes his hand.

"It's a date."

xxx

She couldn't sleep. She has been tossing and turning for the past hour in the dark because her mind just wouldn't cooperate with her wish to rest. All she wants is to get out of this limbo she's been in. Everything that has happened is making her lose her focus, and nothing could be a better proof of that then the day's events. A few months ago, she would be the one with all the ideas. _She_ would be the first to think of a way to forever memorialize Glee in all their hearts. But now, now she's just too wrapped up in all these... calamities that has entered her life.

They're supposed to make a statement. They're supposed to tell Mr Schue what their lives were like before Glee. It's supposed to show how much better their lives have turned out because of him and because of the club. And she knows this. She knows that this club has given her so much, has changed her in some way, made her better. But everytime she tries to think of something, the only things she could think of are the past few months.

And it infuriates her but she just can't help it. Rachel just can't help equating Glee with Vocal Adrenaline. And by extension, with Jesse St. James. And by extension, Shelby Corcoran. Before Glee, she was the girl who got slushied every other day. If it hadn't been for her obvious and superior talents, her life pretty much sucked. But although those cold bursts of surprise she received every morning had wounded her pride, it had never wounded her heart.

She groans in frustration and turns to her side, hugging a pillow tightly against her chest. Why couldn't she think of a single thing to say? There's barely two days left and she's supposed to have the right words. Rachel Berry must never be caught unprepared. What is she going to tell Finn tomorrow? He's planning to work on this together and that means she needs to know what she wants to say. Now.

Rachel wishes she could just get all this negativity out of her system. She's never been this kind of girl, never been the type of person wallow in a pool of loathing and despair. She bounces back. It's part of her high maintainence quality. And it's part of the reason why she hates Jesse St. James with a zealous passion. But what scares her the most, the part that she hates the most, is that simmering anger that's burning just below her skin every single time she thinks about her mother. Because it's the thing that has been messing with her mind the _most_. It's what has been keeping her awake at night even when she tries her best to push it away.

She sighs in resignation, knowing full well that there is no possible way for her to suddenly be struck with brilliance. Once again, this foreign, bitter part inside of her wins and she loses. Because she just can't think of a single word to say. It's almost midnight and she tries her best to go to sleep. But that burning feeling in her chest just wouldn't go away. She reaches out to her left, her hand gliding along the space next to her head as she searches for her phone. Her fingers find the small object and grabs it. The light it emits blinds her a little, but her eyes adjusts to it until she can see the words on the screen clearly.

(Nite Rach. Can't wait for tomorrow :). Sweet dreams.)

She feels the familiar smile tug against her lips as she places her phone against her chest. It helps. A little.

xxx

Their walk up the steps to her front door is filled with silence and she wonders if the time would ever come when just holding his hand wouldn't make her heart go off into a giddy frenzy. She leads him to the kitchen and leaves him standing awkwardly next to the table top as she rummages through the pantry and comes out with two granola bars. He holds up the one she gives him and stares at it doubtfully. She insists that it's healthy and that it tastes good and he shrugs his shoulders, popping the wrapper open and inhaling the whole thing in two large bites.

"Not bad," he said through a mouth full of grain. She snorts and tells him to chew properly before he chokes. They make their way to the living room and he plops himself on to the edge of the couch in front of her television. She places herself primly next to him.

"So, " he says once she's settled. "Figured out what you're gonna say yet?" Rachel shakes her head and looks down at her lap, embarrassed by her incompetence. He nudges her with his shoulder.

"Hey it's cool," he says, flashing her a crooked grin when she looks up. "I got nothing either. I mean, I guess that's no surprise since I've always sucked with words and all. You know how I always say the wrong thing." She nods. She knows. She definitely knows. "Yeah. That's why I figure we could do it together. I mean you could totally help me out with the words and I could- well I could just be around."

"You being around is nice," she murmurs shyly. He flashes her another grin. Rachel clears her throat and tries to be serious. "Well what do you want to say? How do you feel?" He looks thoughtfully at somewhere behind her and she inches just a little bit closer towards him until their thighs touch. It's still weird how this is allowed now. Still weird that there's nothing in the way between the two of them anymore.

"I just-" he begins and shakes his head. "Glee is awesome, you know? I've never really had anything that made me like, happy until I joined Glee. And Mr Schue is like, he's kind of like a role model, you know?"

"The two of you seem really close," she says softly.

"Totally. He helped me out a lot with everything. With the baby, and Quinn. And with you. Okay, so that one was kind of shot to hell but Mr Schue is cool, you know? I never had anyone like him around to kind of show me the ropes."

"So he's like a father figure."

"Yeah. That. I just, I've always kind of coasted with my life, you know? No one's ever really pushed me for anything so I never really had to work all that hard. But then Mr Schue got me to join Glee and that changed. Cause Glee is something I keep having to fight for and Mr Schue is always just pushing me to be better. And you too. And yeah at first it was kind of annoying having to work so much for something, but then it just pays off in the end, you know? And-" He stops talking and turns to look at her, chuckling a little in embarrassment. "Told you I was bad with this."

"It's pretty good so far."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. I'll try to work on it some more. How about you? What're you planning to say?" Rachel sighs and leans her head on his shoulder. She still doesn't know. It's starting to get annoying. She hears him laugh and looks up. "Rach, relax. It's not like we're getting graded for this or anything."

"Yes but I want my words to be perfect," she argues, pouting.

"Whatever you say, it's gonna be. Cause it like, comes from the heart or whatever, right?" She refrains from mentioning that her heart is just a dark, dark place at the moment and just sighs again and drops her head back on his shoulder. She feels his arm come around her as he hugs her from the side and bites back a smile.

"You're way too stressed out for this," he says seriously. She can't tell whether or not that twinkle she thought she saw in his eyes were really there. "We need a break!"

"But it has only been ten minutes," she protested.

"Yeah but you're kind of being all intense right now, you totally need to calm down. Watch a little tv or something."

"Really?" she asks doubtfully. She doesn't really watch television during the day.

"Definitely. It's very relaxing." He nods his head vigorously and smiles. She returns it automatically.

"'Kay." She reaches out for the remote on the coffee table and turns on the television. Fifteen minutes later, he's still channel surfing and she really can't see how this is supposed to be relaxing. Except maybe the part where she's lying on top of him a little, and he has his arm aound her. That part is _very_ relaxing. But as for the watching itself, it seems to be having the opposite effect on her. Because they don't stay on one show for longer than two minutes and so she has no clue what is going on on any of them and that is just giving her more room to think. She could already feel that simmering burn making its way below her skin again.

Rachel can't really tell how they got to the position they're currently in. One minute they were just leaning against each other on the couch, and suddenly he says he needs to stretch his feet. One thing led to another and it ends with him pulling her flush against his body and tucking her head below his chin. She's never been this close to him before. When they were together the first time, everything was just so painfully awkward. They held hands and they kissed _once_ in the span of two weeks. Okay so _sh_e held _his_ hand, but that just made everything sound so much worse. He really didn't want to be with her then.

This time it's different. This time is so much better. Because this time he loves her. She smiles against his chest and tightens her hold around him. The simmer pushes closer and closer to the surface the longer they stay silent and the words just tumble out of her mouth before she could think.

"My mother wants a family." She could feel the confusion coming off him and when he asks whether that's a good thing, she feels her heart constrict.

"She doesn't want _me_," she whispers, the words coming out of her like jagged glasses grazing against her throat. He almost suffocates her with his hold. This isn't supposed to happen, she thinks. This isn't what they're supposed to be doing. They're supposed to be relaxing. _This_ is not relaxing. Because she's trying her best not to cry and he's probably more than a little freaked out. Not that she blames him. His words wash over her and she wonders at the guilt he laces them with.

"You're better than all of us," he says into her hair. "Fuck us all. I'm sorry Rachel."

Something in her snaps. And she's outright sobbing against his shirt. She just can't understand why. That's the problem. She tells him this, her voice shaky and broken. Why doesn't her mother want her?

"She doesn't deserve you," he says, almost angrily, and she wonders if that's true. Because really, her life is made up of a long list of rejections. So if she thinks about it for too long, sometimes it just feels like it's the other way around. He forces her to look at him and she has never seen him looking so serious before. He tells her she doesn't need her mother. But she does. She has a shoebox full of proof that she does. She furiously wipes her tears away because this is supposed to be a date. Dates are supposed to be fun. And she just ruined _everything_.

"Maybe she's just a bitch," he says and she looks up at him in surprise. Did he just call her mother a bitch? "Am I wrong?" he asks, looking at her intently when she attempted to chastise him. The burn seeps out from under her skin just a little and the venom in her voice surprises her.

"Probably not." He stares at her, the same intensity still permeating his gaze. He's looking at her as if he's contemplating something and she tries not to look away.

"Say it," he says quietly.

"What?" There's a half smile on his face as he sits up and retrun the both of them to a more appropriate position on the couch.

"Shelby Corcoran's a bitch!" She gasps and refuses immediately. She would never be so uncouth as to resort to degrading slurs. It's just not a healthy form of expression. She tells him this in a prim manner as he wheedles on persistently. He argues that it is healthy because it expressed his emotions perfectly and she couldn't help the giggle that escapes.

"Please?" he begs. "For me?" She doesn't really see the point of this or why he's so hell-bent on getting her to say it. But he's breaking out those puppy dog eyes and she really does have enough rage in her for this to be an exception.

The first time comes out as a whisper. He goads her to say them louder. He starts chanting her name and she feels the excitement growing inside her. She jumps to her feet and rises to his challenge, her eyes flashing as they bore into his. The second time comes out in a clear, even tone.

"Are you _kidding_ me? With your set of lungs? C 'mon Rachel!" She shouts them out, and that burning feeling consumes her entirely. One more, he tells her and Rachel yells the words at the top of her lungs as the last of the burn under her skin pushes its way out of her body. Who knew swearing could be so exhilarating? He jumps up from the couch and catches her waist before he twirls her around. She laughs in delight at the rush she feels and and beams up at him when he puts her down.

"That was awesome!," she squeals.

"You're awesome," he says and the beam on her face grows into unreal proportions. Her lips are taking up half her face with the way its stretching out. He thinks she's awesome. _Her_. He sits back down and pats the empty seat next to him. She smiles and and follows suit, placing her head on his chest as he leans back into the couch. He continues with the channel surfing and she fiddles idly with the zipper of his hoodie. The simmering burn is gone, along with the rest of her anger. But it seemed to have paved the way for the sadness that's settling in.

She sniffles and his arms around her tighten. She feels the his lips against her temple. The slow circles he's making on her back comforts her as she let her tears fall in silence.

xxx

Everybody is already at the auditorium at three o'clock sharp. Nobody's late, not even Matt. She sees the downcast expression that's plastered on each of their faces and knows she's sporting the same look. In half an hour, Glee will be over. For good. The slight swell around Finn's eyes makes her think of what he told her the day before and she leans up to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. He smiles down at her a little half-heartedly.

Shelby's taking Beth home. Kurt tells them this as they wait for Mr Schue to finish his last class for the day. She feels him grip her hand just a little tighter and grips back to tell him that she's fine. She sees Quinn sitting on the other side of the room and wonders how it happened. She remembers her conversation with her mother and the look on Shelby's face when Rachel informed her that a new beautiful baby girl has arrived. She should have known this will happen. Shelby wants a family after all, she wants a daughter. She just doesn't want hers. It angers Rachel just a little to realize that she's the intermediary that made all this possible.

She feels the burn in the back of her eyes and excuses herself. She'll go see if Mr Schue is done, she tells them. Rachel could feel his worried gaze stay on her until she slips out the door.

xxx

They sit in a semi-circle on the stools they have dragged on to the stage. Mr Schue is looking at them as he takes a sit behind his customary table, his expression perplexed.

"We have something we want to say to you," she begins before she takes her seat next to Finn. Her hands grip the edges of her skirt and he reaches out to briefly touch one of them. She turns to look at him, but his attention is already on their teacher.

One by one they go down the line, each member sharing in a simple statement about what their life were like before this club. She feels her anxiety growing as her turn comes nearer. This club gave her friends. It gave her Finn. And Mr Shue, although he has never fully appreciated the extent of her talents, gave her the chance to be special. She was the girl who was slushied, just another loser to walk down the halls of McKinley. Now she's Rachel Berry. Now she's so much more than that. When her turn comes, she knows what to say.

"I was getting sushied."


	24. It's a girl thing

"Daddy, am I pretty?" He takes his eyes off the road for just a second to glance at the eight year old next to him. What brought this on, he wonders. She'd climbed into the car from swimming practice with a frown on her cute little face and the resemblance to her mother had been uncanny.

"Of course you are baby," he says nonchalantly as he makes a left turn.

"You're not even looking me," Lily mumbles dejectedly, as she sinks into her seat. He frowns, but keeps his eyes on the road.

"I don't have to look. I know you're gorgeous."

"Yeah," she mutters dryly. "Right."

"Lily Eva Hudson, are you implying that I'm a liar?" he asks in mock outrage, turning to look at her and raising an eyebrow. She rolls her eyes in a huff, crossing her arms together.

"No," she mutters, looking away. Now he's worried. He stops the car as they approach a red light and turns to face her fully.

"What's wrong Liliput?" he asks as he ruffles her hair to make her smile. She pouts and makes a face instead. And sighs dramatically. He knows his dramatic sighs. This does not bode well.

"You won't understand," she tells him, just a hint of her mother's melodramatic tendencies lurking beneath the surface.

"Try me. I'm pretty good at understanding things you know."

"But mommy always says that when she tells you something, it goes in one ear and out the other."

"Yeah. Well- Mommy lies. Wait no. She's _misinformed_," he finishes triumphantly. He sobers up when he sees his daughter glancing at him doubtfully. The loud honk from the car behind startles them, and as he quickly shifts his gear into drive, he hears that dramatic sigh again.

"Let's just go home," Lily says quietly, leaning her head down, her hair covering her face. He frowns. He can't say he's not just a little hurt. What happened to the little girl who used to tell him _everything_ (including Starla, her sparkly pink imaginary friend, who sounded oddly like uncle Kurt)?

Xxx

"Something's bothering Lily," he tells Rachel that night as he closes their bathroom door behind him. She looks up at him from the latest script she was flipping through. He smiles as he notices the way her reading glasses had dropped to the tip of her nose.

"What is it?" she asks, watching as he turns off the light and walk towards their bed. He lies down and stares at the ceiling for a few seconds while she waits patiently for him to turn and face her.

"I don't know," he answers, frowning.

"She didn't tell you?" Rachel asks, surprised. "She tells you everything."

"I know." He doesn't notice the smile growing on her face until she puts her script on the bedside table. She leans over him, grinning widely.

"Aww honey, are you upset?"

"No," he mumbles.

"You sure? You're not just a tiny bit sad that she's starting to grow up and starting to pull away from you? Soon she's going to be a teenager and you know what that means. No communication. At all."

"Shut up Rachel," he mutters, feeling his face heat up with all the unwanted possibilities. Her musical laugh fills the air and he relents a small smile. He reaches out and grabs her waist before she notices and she squeals as he pulls her down to roll on top of her.

"You think you're funny Hudson?" he asks mockingly as he hovers over her, grinning.

"Oh I _know_ I am," she smirks. "The Village Voice once said that I had an uncanny comedic timing. That's a direct quote you know."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. And, if I remember correctly, you once told me that nobody can make you laugh like I can," she answers smugly, giggling as he nuzzles his nose onto her collarbone.

"You sure it's the right guy?" he whispers against her ear, grinning when he feels the goosebumps along her neck

"Well he kisses like you," she whispers back. He trails her lips up to her jaw and pulls back to grin at her shamelessly as he plucks her reading glasses of her nose and sets it on the side before leaning forward to kiss her. She wraps her arms around his neck to pull him in closer as she deepens their kiss, and he's almost halfway through with taking her shirt off when she suddenly turns her head and pushes him away.

"Yes, it was definitely you," she answers hoarsely, smirking up at him. He laughs and leans forward to kiss her again, but she splays her hands over his chest to stop him.

"You know," she tells him seriously, and he holds back a groan, wondering why she wants to talk now. "At least now you understand how I feel. The two of you are always keeping secrets from me!"

"That's 'cause we don't want to get in trouble babe," he answers wryly.

"I'm a fun mom!" she yells defensively, slapping his chest and pushing him off of her. He falls back in surprise as Rachel suddenly shoots up off the bed to glare at him.

"Uh," he starts uncertainly, wondering what has gotten into his wife. "Yeah. You're a totally fun mom."

"Liar," she replies sourly. And she lets out that dramatic sigh. What is with all these dramatic sighs from his women lately?

"I'm not lying," he answers. "You're- you're _fun_, Rachel. Like, the best! C'mon Rach," he says slowly as he stands and walks towards her. Placing a hand on each of her shoulders, he turns her to face him. "What's wrong?"

She sighs dramatically. Again.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Hey!" he says defensively. "I'm understanding. Why do both of you keep saying that?"

"Finn," Rachel says wryly. "Most of the time when I talk to you, it goes into one ear and out the other."

It seriously amazes him sometimes how their daughter could channel her so well.

"Okay fine so I'm a bad listener, which has nothing to do with understanding anything." She's staring up at him doubtfully and it annoys the hell out of him to see that exact same expression that he's seen on Lily just a few hours before. She shakes her head and leans up to kiss him.

"Let's just go to sleep," she says quietly, stalking back to bed before he could say a word.

_Women_, he thinks irritably. They're all the same, young or old (-er, he amends or she might kill him), all they do is confuse him.

Xxx

"Good morning," he says cheerfully as he enters the kitchen, receiving two half-hearted replies in return. He frowns.

"Ready for school Lily?" he asks brightly, smiling at the eight year old who is glumly staring at her cereal.

"Whatever," she mumbles. He glances up at his wife with a raised eyebrow as if to say, see? She just rolls her eyes and walks over to him. He leans down automatically while Rachel expertly ties the tie around his neck.

"Thanks babe," he says, pecking her on the lips while Lily rolls her eyes in the background. They're almost at the door when Rachel stops them.

"Hey Lil," she calls out. Lily turns around and looks at her expectantly. "Let's have a girls day this afternoon. You want to come and watch me rehearse a little? Then we can spend the whole day having fun."

"Yeah," his daughter answers excitedly. He smiles as an almost identical grin crosses over Rachel's face.

"Yay!" she answers, pumping her fist awkwardly into the air. He holds the snort until he's out the door.

"What's so funny daddy?"

"Nothing."

Xxx

"I know what's wrong," she whispers, her tone oddly satisfied, in his ear two nights later as she lies down next to him on the bed.

"What is it?" he asks curiously, turning to look at her. The gleam in her eyes is kind of making him nervous. She leans in closer and nudges her nose against him.

"You have to promise you won't get upset."

"Why would I get upset?"

"Finn."

"Fine. I promise." She looks at him doubtfully until he rolls his eyes and holds up a hand in a solemn swear. She nods, satisfied.

"It's a boy," she tells him giddily. He sits up faster than she can say 'Lily's all grown up'.

"Why is it a boy?" he asks quickly, alarmed.

"Relax Finn," she says, burrowing her head further into her pillow as she laughs. "It's Tyler."

Oh Tyler. Tyler's her bestfriend. That's fine.

"Apparently, Tyler has a girlfriend," Rachel continues, amused.

"What do eight year olds know about dating?" he asks blankly.

"They apparently know enough to buy heart-shaped chocolate candies. Valentine's is next week," she clarifies at the confused look on his face. _Oh_. Is that a warning look on her face? He makes a mental note to remember Valentine's this year.

"So what's the big deal?"

"Tyler thinks his girlfriend, Ashley, is really pretty." When he was eight, the only person he ever thought was pretty was his mom, and he's pretty sure that was 'cause she's his mom. What is up with eight year olds these days?

"So?"

"So," she answers rolling her eyes. "Lily's jealous."

"What does she have to be jealous for? She's eight. What does she know about being jealous? What? I'm not upset," he finishes at the roll of his wife's eyes.

"Sure."

"I'm not. Why is Lily jealous?"

"She thinks she's not pretty like that girl. That's why Tyler's giving those chocolates to her and not Lily."

"That's ridiculous. Lily is beautiful."

"It doesn't help when you hear it from your parents Finn. Trust me." She says when he gets off the bed and heads towards the door. He stops at the door.

"Why not?" he asks her, shooting a disgruntled look.

"Because we're her parents. Of course we think she's beautiful."

"Then why did she ask me if she's pretty?" he asks, heading back to his wife. He sits at the edge of the bed and Rachel sits up next to him.

"Because sometimes we just need a little temporary reassurance, you know?"

"Well then how can I help?" She shrugs her shoulders, one hand smoothing out the crease on his forehead.

"It's a girl thing. We always think we're not pretty enough."

"You know you're gorgeous," he argues. She smiles and kisses him on the cheek.

"Well now I do. But," she sighs. "That wasn't so easy to remember when we were young. I remember when we were fourteen and Quinn called me RuPaul, I cried for days."

"I-" talking about their lives pre-Glee will never not be uncomfortable for him.

"It's fine Finn," she tells him in amusement when she catches the guilt on his face. "I got over it. And so will Lily, because she's a strong girl and things like these, it always gets easier after a while."

"Is that what you told her?" he asks curiously, allowing himself to be pulled back onto the bed.

"I told her about my nose."

"Your what?" he asks, amused.

"My nose. When we were in elementary, they called me 'Big Honk Rachel'. Do you remember that?"

He shakes his head as she snuggles closer into him.

"Well good. It was a horrendous name, not to mention just plain uncreative."

"The kids at our school were idiots," he offers consolingly at the hint of contempt in her voice.

"I know. I wanted to tell her about Santana and those Yentl comments, but I don't think she'd understand. I think she got what I meant though. She definitely looked like she felt better, poor baby."

Rachel smiles up at him brightly, looking proud at her accomplishment, and he stares back thoughtfully.

"You know," he says quietly. "I always thought you were cute."

"Why thank you," she answers, slightly confused.

"No I mean when we were kids. I always thought you were cute. You used to have those pigtails and you were always in those little dresses that flare out. If my eight year old self could have comprehended girls then, I'd totally think you were beautiful."

The smile on her face widens into a full-blown grin as she pushes him back and straddles him. She leans in close to kiss him fiercely before pulling back.

"You're just saying that to get into my pants," she murmurs breathlessly against his lips. "Aren't you?"

"Is it working?" he jokes, smirking.

"You got me at the pigtails comment."

Xxx

"How was your day Lil?" he asks conversationally as he pulls out of her school.

"It was okay," she tells him, shrugging her shoulders and swinging her legs. It's Valentine's day. He's been on pins and needles ever since Rachel gave him that little insight on the complications of the female mind. He knew they started thinking so early?

"That's awesome. I've got something for you."

"A present?" she asks, perking up. "What is it?"

"Look in the glove compartment," he says nonchalantly, although if he's honest, he's kind of nervous. This is a different kind of gift giving with his kid. He's never done this kind of thing before, this girl kind of thing, with Lily. He holds back a sigh as the realization that she's growing up hits him once again. Gone are the days of the Lily who laughed hysterically at the sight of a worm because it 'looks ticklish', or the Lily who used to follow him around tirelessly after work, her little pink blanket (aptly named Blanket) trailing behind her, waiting for a piggyback ride. He misses Starla.

Lily's popping open the glove compartment like a boss.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" he says boisterously when she holds the box of candy in her hands.

"Thanks daddy," she says, the smile on her face is unfamiliar to him. "It's awesome," she continues, grinning by now. He relaxes back into his seat. They drive in silence for a few minutes while she takes a small bite out of one chocolate heart and he organizes his thoughts.

"You know Lily, boys can be stupid sometimes."

"Tyler's not stupid!" Lily exclaims. He hides a smile, even though he feels like he may never see Tyler the same way again. Sure, the kid's eight _now_. But in a few years, he's going to be a teenager and next thing you'll, he'll be corrupting their little stargazer in ways that might require physical threats on Finn's part.

"Who says I'm talking about Tyler?" he asks. She gapes at him for a few seconds, the chocolate in her fingers forgotten.

"Well- why were you talking about boys then?" she counters. She's a smart kid. She takes _that_ after her mom too.

"I meant boys as a whole."

"I know mommy told you daddy," she tells him wryly. He turns to look at her in surprise.

"You do?"

"Yeah. She said you were worried about me and that we should ally-allev- she said you'd feel better if you knew."

"I see."

"Yeah. I'm sorry daddy."

"For what Liliput?" he asks, surprised.

"I didn't mean to make you worry." He grins and ruffles her hair playfully.

"That's what you do in family kiddo. You worry. You feeling better?"

"Yes," she answers. "Mommy tells me it just takes a longer time for boys to see what's right in front of them, is all. She says sometimes they won't see it until they're sixteen and you go right of to their faces and sing it to them. I'm not sure what that means," she finishes, frowning in confusion.

"Well she's right. We're a little slow you know. You gotta be patient with us."

"She told me that too. She said that sometimes a boy can really like you and not know it for months, even when everyone else around him can see it."

"Mommy got everything covered, didn't she?" he asks wryly, wondering if Rachel had literally gave their daughter a complete recount of their history.

"Yep." He shakes his head and continues driving, making a mental note to remember to pick up the _other_ box of, slightly more sophisticated, candy and stargazer lilies from the florist.

"Boys are a _little_ stupid," Lily concedes after a moment of contemplation. He nods his head in agreement.

Xxx

He sits back on the couch, grinning at the sight of Rachel and Lily leaning against each other and giggling hysterically. He catches Rachel's eye and when she silently mouths _I love you_ over their daughter's head, he knows he's got Valentine's right this year.

"Daddy?" Lily calls out and he snaps out of his thoughts. She's looking at them shyly, swivelling her head from him to Rachel.

"Yeah baby?"

"Am I pretty?" she asks quietly. "Like mommy?"

He grins.

"Better. You're pretty like Lily."


	25. She falls to pieces

He broke up with her on a Saturday night. It was towards the end of Spring and that particular day had been one of those days where nothing seemed to go right. She had woken up late, missed an audition for a walk in role for some crime show she couldn't remember the name of (TV shows tend to run into one another after the hundredth audition), and Al had once again abandoned her for his new man whom she had yet to be introduced to. Predictably, the day had ended with the beginnings of her time of the month. Rachel Berry was in a foul mood. She had spent the night alone, curled up in a fetal position on her bed, a hot water bottle pressed firmly against her stomach and groaning in pain every ten minutes. She was hungry, she was in a lot of pain and she was miserable. So, when he finally called her at eleven thirty, she had brightened up considerably, hoping that his voice would be able to help her out of her current state of despondency.

She should have known form the way he said hello that everything was going to end in disaster. But he had been in a funk all week as a result of his failing grade and she had assumed it was just a continuation of that. Her greeting hadn't been too felicitous either as she gritted her teeth to hold back another groan. He didn't seem to notice the distress in her voice however and had gone right for the jugular. She couldn't comprehend his words for the longest time. "What do you mean, over?" she had asked stupidly. He couldn't mean _over_, over. Could he? They were in love and they had been in love forever. And they were going to be in love for the rest of their lives. She knew that as surely as she knew that she was going to be the next big thing on Broadway. "Finn?" she persisted when he said nothing. He had sighed and whispered an I'm sorry and suddenly, Rachel was left with the dial tone ringing loudly in her ear, her pain forgotten.

At first she thought maybe it was just a stupid joke. They've been together for years and things that have been together for years don't end just like that. In fact, they just don't end. Ever. She had called him a total of twenty times and left three voicemails telling him in no uncertain terms that it was not funny and that he better call her back quick. When it was three in the morning and he was still ignoring her, Rachel thought maybe it was something she had done. She wrecked her brain, trying to find a possible explanation for his baffling phone call and found nothing. But she hadn't been that worried about it because they've done this before. And it never lasted for more than a week. As the unholy pain attacked her senses once again, she pushed the nagging worry to the back of her mind and dragged her body up to look for something to kill the pain.

She had texted him good morning the next day, pretending that nothing had happened. The monthly Night of Torture had finally ended and she woke up in better spirits. There was no reply. Throwing her phone down on the bed in a huff, Rachel had angrily stormed into the bathroom to get ready for her day. He was being ridiculous and immature. The least he could do was tell her what he was so mad about that he felt the need to put them in this 'Temporary Purgatory' again (She had dubbed the term after the second time they made up. Her daddy's penchant for dubbing things had somehow been passed on to her unwittingly.). She had complained incessantly to Al until he told her to shut up and just enjoy the day. She tried. Really.

Three days later, she realized this state of denial she had placed herself in was doing her no good. Things were different this time because all contacts seemed to have ceased. She knew she needed to do something, but what could she do when she was still unclear on why he was so upset in the first place ? Hence, after a whole day of contemplation, she finally sent a text apologising for her mistake, whatever it may have been, but could he please answer her calls so that they could discuss this like the rational, mature adults they have become? She smiled in relief when her next attempt wasn't in vain. He answered the phone half-heartedly, like he was tired. Well if he was so tired then he could just listen. She had prepared a speech. A long and sensible speech, listing down all the reasons why they should just make up already and not let this break go on any longer because it was pointless when they were only going to get back together anyway. She didn't go very far. Five minutes into her tirade, he had cut in with a simple phrase that seemed to stop her heart. "I can't do this anymore.".

Once again, she was the idiot one, unable to comprehend just what he meant by those words. He began saying things that didn't make any sense whatsoever in her mind. He wasn't right for her. She deserved better. They were different. He was bringing her down. It was like he was speaking in a different language. What was he talking about? What did he mean they were never going to make it? Haven't they already made it? Every word he said was like a blow to her heart and she could taste the tears that were running rapidly down her face. He had never said anything like this before, never told her any of it. Had he really felt this way all this time? Her silent tears soon gave way to broken sobs when she heard the break in his voice as he told her that it was for the best, that it was the best thing he could ever do for her. And once again, she was left with that dial tone echoing loudly in her brain. Dumbly, she realized he never heard the rest of her speech. It was a good one.

She woke up the next day with a pounding in her head and realized that she had fallen asleep crying. Her phone was still in her hand. She had stared at it obtusely, wondering if the conversation last night had actually happened or if it was just one long, horrible nightmare. In a daze, she had walked towards her vanity, wincing at the angry swell around her eyes and her pale complexion. It was definitely not a nightmare. During their customary Friday brunch, Al had exclaimed despairingly over her state of duress and asked her what was wrong. She assured him that she was fine, that it was just her stomach cramps keeping her up the night before. She had cut their meeting short, saying that her hormones were acting up. Rachel spent the rest of the day holed up on her couch in her sweats, his words playing over and over in her mind.

Two days later, she was thoroughly infuriated. He was being an _idiot_. The biggest idiot in the world. What did he mean it was for the best? How could it be the best when every day felt like the worst day of her life? How could it be for the best when just the thought of living without him leaves her in such a grave state of hyperventilation that she felt like she couldn't breathe and that she could die at any second? She told him so explicitly, imploring him to think this over, to end this torture on them both because she_ knew_, knew with absolute conviction that he was sufferring too. His stubborn insistence to ignore her leaves her frustrated and had left her with a hole in the television and a broken picture frame for proof.

She left him fifteen voice messages, all with her hysterical sobs ranging from begging him to pick up the phone to cursing his very existence. She knew she was steadily losing it. Or unsteadily, as it were. She just needed to make him see this wasn't going to work. She wasn't going to work without him. One night, in a fit of anger and desperation she had yelled into her phone angrily, throwing his words back at him. Didn't he tell her once that he didn't give up easy? Didn't he say that he was going to be better? That he was going to spend his whole life trying to be better for her? He told her he was going to love her forever. He promised her he was going to love her _forever_. Forever meant until the end of time, not until he 'couldn't do it anymore'. After the fifth time she was cut off, Rachel dialed his number angrily, waiting for the voicemail and taking a deep breath, ready for another torrential outburst. His soft "Rachel" stopped her short.

He was crying. She knew he was crying by the hoarse way he was speaking to her. And he was stubborn. And he was adamant to break her heart. He was determined to reach into her chest, and grab her source of existence, and squeeze the life out of it. He was crushing it beneath his heel. "I'm tired," he told her, "of trying to keep up with you. I'm tired of feeling like I'm not enough for you, like I'm never going to be good enough for you." She began to protest but he pushed on obstinately, ignoring her defensive cries for him to _listen_ to her. This was the best, he said stubbornly. It was the best for them both. It was the best for him. Her heart was a pile of dust under his feet. It wasn't broken. It was just gone, shattered into billions of minute pieces of dust.

"You're a coward," she told him quietly, her voice cold and crisp. He said nothing, and she could hear the sharp intake of breath that turned shorter and quicker as his breathing seemed to turn frantic.

"I know," he finally whispered, his voice broken. She was the one who hung up this time, letting the deafening tone of the dead line fill_ his _ears. It took five minutes before her face crumbled and for her body to fall to the floor in a heap, the overwhelming sobs wreaking through her whole as she cried her wretched and broken tears.

Finn Hudson was apart of her definition. They were one halves of a whole. Their names were synonimous in her mind. And now he was gone. And she was alone.

She needed to find who she was without him.


	26. The truth about lying

He thought it would be easy.

He'd be her friend (he already was), maybe he'd flirt a little, he'd be real sincere (well, as sincere as lying could get).

Easy, right?

It was just a little lie.

It wasn't even really a lie in the first place, because it was kind of true. He did kind of miss her and Glee did kind of suck when she wasn't around. And he definitely, _definitely_ needed her. So it wasn't really lying, it was more like a half-truth, right? Half truths are better than lying, aren't they?

He had to do it. He had to man up for his kid, because yeah, he may be sixteen and all, and the baby was like some sort of freak accident or something, since they never even did it in the first place, but that kid was still _his_. And well, he never had a dad, not really. So he knew the feeling of not having your old man have your back, and it fucking _sucked_.

So yeah, if lying (half-truth) was what he needed to do to secure his kid's future and all that, then that was what he was going to do.

Easier said than done.

The thing was, he was just so _bad_ at it though. He told himself over and over outside of that classroom that he was going to do this, that he was going to be smooth and awesome and she won't suspect a thing. But then he'd gone into the room and she was looking all depressed and stuff and he just- he was just _bad_ alright? Somewhere with _low lighting_? Who says shit like that? He was horrible and awkward and he sounded so fucking stupid that it was a miracle that she believed him.

But she did.

That was the thing about Rachel though, wasn't it? The thing that attracted him in the first place? She believed him. Or more like, she believed _in_ him. Like, he could tell her he was going to go to the moon or whatever, and she'd still look at him like he could do anything he wanted. Nobody ever looked at him like that before. Nobody ever made him _feel_ like that.

So the getting her to say yes part was easy, technically. It was just the living with that awful taste at the back of his throat part that was hard.

But he had to do it, okay? He had no choice. The football team sucks ass. He was going nowhere with that. But Glee, Glee was something else. Glee was special, like _she_ was special. Scratch that. Glee was special, _because_ she was special. Which was exactly why he had to do it. He needed to be a part of something special to make it for his kid. And when she was around, he was part of that special thing.

He told Quinn, when she yelled at him for not being able to do her ice cream run that night, that he had to do chores. Technically, that wasn't lying either. It was a chore. A chore to get Rachel back in Glee so that their baby wasn't going to grow up with a deadbeat dad.

His dad would have done the same thing. He definitely would have, because it was the only way out of this hick town. His old man would have done the same.

Finn still couldn't shake that nagging feeling that it wasn't something he'd be proud of though.

A chore. That was all it was. That was what the nerves were all about. It had nothing to do with the way her tiny skirt was swishing around her thighs as she ran out of her house to his mom's car. That snazzy little drum solo his heart was pumping out? It had nothing to do with the way she said "Hey", all breathlessly as she smiled at him, her face flush.

It was just nerves that made his palms a little sweaty as he gripped the steering wheel, or that made his stomach flip crazy somersaults when she surprised him by singing along to Journey. Just nerves.

And guilt. That too.

Lying wasn't as easy as he thought. So he stopped. Sort of. Somewhere between the moment she got into his car and the moment she stepped out, he stopped thinking of it as a chore. It was a date. A pretend date, but a date. And the moment she scrunched her nose when he told her about the bowling shoes, he stopped pretending altogether. It was a date. Just a date.

She was horrific. Like, no lie, the girl had terrible hand-eye coordination. But she was fun though, and she never gave up. 'Cause duh, she won't be Rachel Berry if she did. And she was hilarious, really, the way she'd get so bent out of shape when she got another gutter ball, or the way she'd stomp her feet when he made another Strike (he was just an awesome bowler. His mom said he got it from his dad, 'cause his old man liked bowling so much, he even had custom made bowling shoes and stuff like that, which he used before his feet got too big).

It was- well it was cute, alright? She was cute. He kind of knew that already, that Rachel was cute and all. Plus she was really cool about the whole bowling thing, even though he knew that the thought of sharing her shoes and balls with other people freaked her out.

The trouble really started when they sat down for dinner. She had frowned and barely touched her pizza, so he pretty much scarfed down half a pie by himself. That was when he remembered about the baby, 'cause honestly he had almost forgotten his real reason with all the fun he was having. She looked really torn about it, and he figured it was because she really did love Glee, even though everybody else thought she didn't. The rest of them thought that all she wanted was the spotlight, and that was definitely true too, but Glee was different.

Glee was special to her, like it was special to him. He didn't know exactly how he knew, he just did. Rachel Berry loved Glee. She would have never done all that she did to save it if she didn't. And he figured he was the best person to see that, 'cause he was right there with her the whole way. So yeah, he figured he might be the only person to know how much Glee mattered to her, which was why when she said no one appreciated her, he totally had to butt in.

"I appreciate you," he told her. He really, really did. She looked at him like she was surprised, but come on, she was like, the most talented person he'd _ever_ met, and she was his friend, and- and she always made him feel _good_ about himself. Of course he appreciated her 'cause other people may not realize it, but Rachel was kind of awesome. She was still crazy, and like, all intense and stuff, but like, in this really, really _awesome_ way. She just- she has this all this, _passion_ and whatever, like she was going to go after what she wanted no matter what. He'd never met anyone like her before, never known anyone who just made him kind of, feel like _he_ could do it too, he could do whatever he wanted too, if he could just figure out what it was.

But then he had to screw that up, so maybe he'd never know. Or maybe what he was meant to do, what he was meant to be really, really good at, was to be a dad. He figured he already loved his kid. Sure the baby was going to pretty much ruin his future, but he never thought he would ever have one in the first place, so at least, he should be a good dad, right?

Which came back to the lying thing. Or, the half-truth. He needed to get her to come back to Glee, and even though it was really for his kid, he thought in a way it was for her too, 'cause in the whole time he'd known her, she'd never looked more miserable now that she was the star of her own play. He figured it was because she wasn't in Glee anymore, 'cause she could deny it all she wanted to, but he knew how much Glee meant to her. He needed to get his shit together, and make sure she comes back. All the talking was just making him feel things he really shouldn't be feeling, so he decided to continue bowling instead. It was her last chance, and he grinned when she kissed the top of the pink ball she had adopted. The girl was ridiculous, but it was cute.

She got a strike. It was her last ball, and she got a freaking Strike. He should have known Rachel Berry was going to ace whatever she set her mind to.

She aced at kissing too.

He knew this 'cause he still thought about that kiss in the auditorium sometimes in the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep. He always tried to think about Quinn first 'cause she was his girlfriend, and also the mother of his baby, but Rachel just always managed to sneak herself back into his thoughts no matter how hard he tried to push her away. And also because in the middle of all that excitement, she had jumped up and planted one on him.

He wondered how it was possible for a person to feel so many things at one. He figured that the way his heart twisted in his chest, his stomach dropped to the bottom of his feet and his brain exploded? Yeah. That was how.

"Come back to Glee," were the first words that popped out of his mouth, and he honestly couldn't tell what was the real reason he said them. 'Cause the way his stomach was twisted all up in knots told him it was 'cause of the baby, but the way his heart was drumming at breakneck speed told him it was because he just really, really wanted to kiss her some more. He guessed that the way his brain was pretty much spattered against the inside of his skull meant that he didn't actually _know_ what the fuck he was doing when he said it.

"I'll do it," she had said immediately, before she buried her face in his neck. He could feel her grinning and his hands had involuntarily tightened themselves around her.

So the way those knots in his stomach twined themselves into one giant ball of guilt, had let him know immediately why.

_Fuck._

It turned out that lying? It wasn't so easy. It wasn't easy at all. And half-truths? They were so much worse.

'Cause when the truth finally came out, it was a bitch with a capital B.

He told her the kiss was real. It was true. It was probably the most truthful thing he'll ever tell her. That kiss was real and amazing and it made him want _more_. More of everything, more of her and _them_ and of things that could have been. But the realest thing about that kiss, the biggest truth, was that it was _wrong_.

"My dreams are bigger than that. And they're bigger than you."

The slap had stung for _days_. But the words, they stayed with him for months.

That was the thing about lying.

It only comes at the expense of trust.


	27. Population Theory

"_Wha_-?"

"Finn? Are you awake? Finn?"

"Rachel?"

"Oh good. I'm so glad you're up. We need to have an important discussion about our future. I've been thinking about this for a while now, and I believe that the minimum number of kids we should have is three, don't you agree? See, I have this theory. You know, we're only going to live for so long, and we need to bring our legacy into this world, because with our genes combined, you know our children will be perfect. Anyway, if we want to repopulate the earth with beautiful and talented children, then we will need to have at least three kids, because two will only serve to take our places when we die and in the grand scheme of things, it wouldn't change anything and-"

"What time is it?"

"Oh, just a little after three."

"In the morning?"

"Of course Finn."

"What are we talking about?"

"My theory of population."

"Your what?"

"Haven't you been listening at _all_? _Honestly_ Finn-"

"Rachel, do you really think this is the right time to talk about this?"

"Well, any time is the right time to talk about the rest of our lives together. Don't you think that this is a conversation worth having?"

"Yeah, yeah of course I do baby. I just don't know if three a.m. is exactly the right time to-"

"You don't think this is important, do you? You think I'm being ridiculous and you're annoyed that I woke you up-"

"Whoa, Rachel _slow_ down! My brain is still half asleep right now. Can you please not freak out until I'm awake enough to know what I'm saying?"

"I- Fine."

"Awesome. So what are we talking about again?"

"My theory of population."

"Right, right. And where is this coming from?"

"Well, okay it's that movie we watched last night, it got me thinking."

"The zombie movie? The one where you spent like, three quarters of the time with your face behind your pillow?"

"It was scary!"

"That movie got you _thinking_?"

"_Yes_ Finn. What if, by some crazy insane fluke, this world becomes infested with a virus or disease that wipes out entire nations? What if, by some crazy miracle, the two of us are the few remaining survivors? And of course, in order to repopulate the earth, we would need to build a new world, with humans well-equipped to handle the obvious hardships of rebuilding _life_. The both of us would be one of the best choices to bear this responsibility-"

"_Wait_, wait. Maybe it's 'cause it's like, three in the freaking morning, but do you know how _crazy_ you sound right now?"

"Finn Hudson-"

"Rachel, it was a movie. About _zombies_. How could it _possibly_ make you think all that?"

"I just- "

"Baby, as much as I love talking about our future in the apocalyptic world with you, I've got a class at eight tomorrow and I need to sleep. Can we just continue this, I don't know, some other time when it's _not_ in the middle of the night?"

"I-"

"Besides, repopulation will be the _last_ thing we need to worry about. It's more like how to get the _hell_ away from those flesh-eating zombies, which you probably won't know, since you barely saw anything through that whole cushion-"

"I can't _sleep_."

"What?"

"I- I can't sleep."

"What's wrong Rach?"

"…"

"Rachel?"

"I miss you so _much_!"

"I miss you too-"

"I'm so _sick_ of not being able to see you! I'm so sick of dates through Skype and watching movies with you through the screen and hiding behind pillows when the scary parts come because I can't hide behind you. I just- I _can'tsleep_."

"Hey, hey it's going to be okay. Rach c'mon. Don't cry. Please?"

"I'm sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night Finn. I just- I wanted to hear your voice and- and I just- that was all I could come up with."

"You couldn't just come up with 'Hey'?"

"You're laughing at me."

"I'm not, I swear. I miss you too Rachel. A lot."

"I didn't think it was going to be this hard."

"Remember what you said? Just two more months, right? Just two months and then Summer will come and we'll be together, and you can hide behind me all you want."

"This sucks."

"Big time."

"I guess I have to let you go back to sleep now."

"It's kinda four in the morning…"

"Well, at least you picked up the phone."

"Of course I did."

"Goodnight Finn. I love you."

"I love you too."

"Sweet dreams."

"Rachel, wait."

"Yes?"

"I can't sleep."

"But you just said-"

"We've got a few hours before I gotta go."

"Really?"

"Yeah sure. Why not?"

"Thanks Finn."

"No problem. So, what are you wearing?"

"_Finn_ _Hudson_!"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. How was your day?"


	28. In which Finn is frustrated

"I can't belive you narced on us," he muttered , trying to give her his best I'm-pissed face. She just rolled her eyes at him.

"Don't get mad at me for exposing your laziness. I'm tired of pulling all your weight. Regionals is in a month guys," she answered patronizingly. He stifled his urge to stick out his tongue. She was such a freaking tattletale. So what if he wasn't doing the stupid vocal warm ups? It's not like they needed his voice anyway. They had _Jesse_ now. At the thought of the poofy haired Rachel-stealer, Finn resisted the urge to stick out his tongue again. He didn't really like the way Mr Schue was looking at him right then.

"I'm just trying to understand what's going on here," Mr Shue said. _Crap he's looking at you!_ "Finn, why did you stop singing?"

"Cause you started giving all the male leads to Jesse." _Shit!_ Did he really just admit that? He couldn't look anyone in the eye, feeling the embarrassment lighting up his face. _Screw this_. "It kinda shook my confidence, you know?" he mumbled. Thankfully then Santana said something and everybody turned their focus on her, forgetting him. Truthfully, he knew his voice had nothing on that Jesse kid's. It's bad enough to have Rachel choosing that ass over him, he didn't want to feel like a dick when he sang too. He knew Rachel was looking at him when he confessed to Mr Schue. He tried to ignore it though. He didn't want to see the expression on her face. She probably thought he was a dumbass now.

Well, _fine_. What did he care anyway? She was the one who stomped on his heart and used him to make people think she was some sort of slut or something. Yeah okay, so he was kind of a hypocrite when he told her off. He knew that when they were doing that whole weird thing where they were kind-of-together-but-not-really, he blew her off for the very same reason. Like, a bunch of times. But _whatever_, okay? She was always all high and mighty about that. Telling him to stop thinking about his reputation or about what other people think. If he was a hypocrite then so was she. _Aww crap_. Mr schue was telling everyone they're doing solos this week. What, now he was going to have to give her the satisfaction of having proof that her dancing St. Jerkoff was a better singer than him? Finn groaned as he stood up to leave the room. _Great._

The rest of the day wasn't so bad. Burt had taken him to the Reds game. That was awesome. He'd never been to a real game before. He really likes Burt. Yeah, in the beginning it was really, really uncomfortable to know that the dude liked his momin_ that way_, but he was a really cool guy. Finn liked having him around. It made him feel like he had a dad or something. Sometimes that makes him feel guilty, like he was betraying his real dad. But he figured his old man would probably be glad that his son's got someone to take him to a football game. He couldn't shake off the feeling that maybe Kurt was giving him the evil eye sometimes though. It was probably all in his head. He and Kurt were tight. Even though the guy kind of makes him feel uncomfortable sometimes when he's trying to hit on Finn. But Finn figured it was probably really hard to be a gay dude in Lima, so he tries to ignore it.

The next day was the first solo. Rachel volunteered. _Of course she would_, he thought bitingly. _The girl's a total teacher's pet_. But then he felt guilty. He really needed to stop trying to pretend he hates her, because he was starting to confuse himself. She was going on and on about the song she chose, Miley Cyrus's The Climb (dear God, _why_?) and even though he didn't know what lacklustre meant, he knew she was totally insulting him by that pointed look she was giving him as she said it. Moments like that sometimes makes him wonder why he likes her so damn much. But then he'll get to thinking about her smile, and her voice, and that annoyingly cute way her face goes all red and scrunched up when she's pissed, and all the things she used to do for him. And that kind of thinking gets Finn nowhere but depressed, so he avoids it as much as he can. He rolled his eyes, trying to pretend like he doesn't want to hear her sing, which was stupid, because he _always_ wants to hear her sing. But he's a dude, okay? A dude's got to protect his pride.

He thought he was going deaf or something at first. He had to lean forward a bit, trying to see if he was actually hearing things right. He knew it wasn't his hearing that was the problem when he caught the look on Mr Schue's face. He turned to look at her and at first she was being all Rachel when she sings, with the closed eyes and and the dramatic look of concentration, but then he could see the confusion that passed over her face. It was like a split second, but he thought it probably looked like his. What the hell was up with Rachel's voice? And _why_ was she still singing when she knew something was wrong? After a really uncomfortable part where she was like trying to reach a high note or something, Mr Schue winced and stood up.

"Rachel," he said this softly, but Finn could hear him because come on, the room wasn't exactly spacious (Ooh big word). "I think you've lost your voice." The look on her face made him feel a little bad. Her eyes were all bugged out and her mouth kept opening and closing like she was a fish out of water. Okay, so it made him feel a _lot _bad. What, he can't feel bad for a team mate who lost her voice? It had nothing to do with it being Rachel, okay? He would feel just as bad if it was like Mike or whoever. Except well, he knew how much Rachel's voice meant to her. It was _everything_.

She let out this dramatic gasped and suddenly she wasn't in front of him anymore because she ran out of the class. He saw Kurt and Mercedes rolling their eyes, and Santana was laughing in that really mean way she likes to laugh (God, what the hell was wrong with him when he thought having sex with that psycho girl was a good idea?). Only Tina looked like she felt sorry for Rachel. Mr Schue left the class to look for her and maybe he had to hold on to his chair a bit to keep from following. He didn't care. _Really._

He found her standing despondently (Thanks SAT prep book) in front of her car when he was walking towards the bus stop. People were walking towards their car and pointing at her, and some of them were laughing as they stared, because the girl was seriously spaced out. She had this ridiculously sad look plastered across her face and she was holding her car keys but she hadn't moved in like, five minutes. Well, he guessed it was five minutes. He didn't really know because it wasn't like he missed the bus that pulled up when he came because he was looking at her. _Really._

"Stop looking at her," he muttered under his breath. He averted his gaze to the geeky freshman next to him, who was frowning at him like he was some weirdo who talks to himself in public. This was all Rachel's fault. He forced down the urge to stick out his tongue at the little geek. She was still standing in the same position. She was going to get sundburned if she kept standing in the sun like that. So what? Finn didn't care. _Really. _But then her face crumbled and he knew she was about to cry._ Oh crap_. By the time he knew what the hell he was doing, he was already halfway across the parking lot.

"Hey," he said when he stopped right behind her, his voice gentler than he wanted it to be. She spun around, surprised. Her eyes were red and her nose was all swollen.

"Oh hi Finn," she said quietly when she saw him.

"What's up?" he asked, pretending to be nonchalant (that's the right word, right?), like he hadn't been staring at her for the last ten minutes (_He hadn't_). Rachel sighed.

"I have to go to the hospital," she answered. She looked as if she was hesitating before she continued, looking up at him. "I'm too scared to go alone."

"So go with your dads." She shook her head ruefully.

"They're at Ohio State. There's a conference there on the history and impact of the civil liberties union. Daddy's a speaker." _Right. _He really, really didn't want to be where he was. Now she was smiling at him, pretending she was fine. But the smile was wobbly, and it didn't reach her eyes. "It's okay. I already made the appoinment with Dr Gidwani anyway. See you later Finn." With a small wave, she opened the door of her car. Sometimes, Finn really, really hates himself.

"Wait. Do you want me to drive you?" The way her face brightened at his words made him wish really bad that St. Jesse-of-the-fucking-Douchebag would go fling himself off a cliff.

"Can you? I'd really appreciate it Finn" He held back a sigh.

"Pass me your keys."

It was quiet in the car. He wanted to turn on the radio, but what if she had been listening to some showtune on her CD? It would really suck for her if she wanted to sing along and then realize that she can't. He cleared his throat, his eyes on the car in front of him (How _awesome_ was the plate number MAF14? Was there even a better movie than The Godfather?).

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly, her voice all sad.

"For what?"

"For using you in my music video in an attempt to make me look like a promiscuous skank." He really did not want to talk about that.

"Whatever," he muttered. From the corner of his eye, he saw her deflating. He sighed. _Damn her_. "It's cool Rach. Not a big deal."

"You're lying. It is a big deal. I know the way you feel about me and I used it, used you, to get what I want." _Well_. When she put it _that_ way. "I care about you Finn. Truly I do. I honestly never meant to hurt you at all." He sighed again. She felt really awful about it, he knew. And he knew he was overreacting, but he hadn't really cared. Because she chose _Jesse_. What did he expect anyway? That she'd run from a boyfriend who was doing everything right to a douchebag like him who kept hurting her feelings time and again?

"Look, Rach, it's okay. I know." He even forced himself to smile to show her that he was fine with it. He still wasn't, but keeping a grudge has never been his strong suit, especially if it was with her he's starting to find.

"Really?" she asked hopefully, a small smile on her face.

"_Really._"

"Good. Because you're my friend Finn, and I hate the fact that I had injured your feelings." The word friend kind of made him want to shoot himself in the head, but he kept on smiling.

"We're here," he said as he parked her car. She had this terrified look on her face and even though he knew she was being way too dramatic about this, he couldn't just let her sit there, thinking of the worst thing that could happen. He turned off the engine and faced her. He took her hand silently in his. He _missed_ the feel of her small fingers and the way they would immediately intertwine with his when they walk down the halls at school. She was looking at him and it looked like she was holding her breath.

"Rach," he began gently. "Look at me. It's going to be okay." She didn't look like she believed him. In fact, it looked like she was about to throw up. She looked up at him and he couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. God she was _so_ dramatic.

"Will you go in there with me? Please?" He grinned.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"I swear."

They walked towards the hospital with his hand firmly grasping hers, just like it used to be before he had to find his inner 'rockstar' (thanks a _lot_ Mr Schue) and _she_ found Jesse St. Dickweed.

She was changing into a hospital gown behind the curtain and Finn turned away, his face red. He didn't understand why she had to change in the first place. It wasn't like she was going into surgery, or taking an X-ray or something like that. But she had insisted, and the nurse had given her the gown while rolling her eyes. Dr Gidwani was starting to bug him though. He knew Rachel's personality was annoying and all, but did he really have to be so mean about it? The dude was an ass. Finn was sitting on the rolling chair, swiveling himself around and around until he got dizzy and felt like throwing up.

"Finn?" He turned to look at Rachel, who was still lying on the hospital bed-thingy. "What if he says I'll never sing again?" She turned to look at him, panic settling on her face. "I mean who am I without my voice? I'm just this spoiled, annoying, only child-"

"Don't say that. There's like _so_ many awesome things about you." He hated it a little when she keeps putting herself down like that. Okay so it wasn't like the things she were saying weren't true, but that didn't mean he had to like it when she says them. She was looking at him, her face expectant.

"Like?" _Crap_. She wants him to list them down _now_? He was going to screw this up.

"Look," he scoffed instead. "He's not gonna say you'll never sing again, I mean-"

"Bad news Rachel, you'll probably never sing again," Dr Gidwani had cut him off before he could make a fool of himself. He was relieved until he heard her gasp. _Wait, what?_

"I'm kidding. You have severe tonsilitis which has resulted in an inner ear infection." Seriously. The guy is an_ ass_. "From the looks of things it's not the first time. You should have had them out years ago."

"Why should I let you butcher my voice when just resting my throat for a week and chugging down herbal tea will do the _same_ job?" she asked. Her voice was doing that shrilly thing it does when she was panicking. That and she was talking really fast. Dr Gidwani looked kind of pissed.

"This is a very serious infection," he began but Finn thought he should probably cut in before it turns into a real argument.

"I think she's worried about the surgery affecting her singing voice," he said diplomatically to the doctor. The older man just rolled his eyes and ignored him.

"Please start by taking these antibiotics. Unless you think they're going to adversely affect your dance moves." God, the guy was a dick. He sighed. _Well_, this was big. In Rachel's universe anyway.

"What do you think I should do?" she asked dejectedly.

"Maybe you should ask your boyfriend. Oh wait. You can't. He's not here!" The words spilled out of him before he even knew he was saying anything. But he suddenly realized that he meant every single word. Screw being friends. He didn't want to be friends. He wants her to be _his_. She stared at him, surprised before she seemed to regain her senses.

"Oh he's in San Diego for spring break with his friends from Vocal Adrenaline," she shot back, insulted. Yeah. The guy's off partying in San freaking Diego while his girlfriend was at the hospital, possibly losing her voice forever. What a_ great _boyfriend. _Seriously?_

"When are you going to realize that he's not into you like I am?" he burst out, frustrated. "You think he's gonna stick around if you can't sing? If you're a vocal cripple?" Okay so he didn't actually think she wasn't going to be able to sing anymore but _whatever_. And yeah, he said he wasn't going to bring this up again, but he cares about her. And maybe he never treated her right before, but he _knows_ that what he feels for her is more than what that St. Jackass ever could.

"Look, I know that you've always been jealous of Jesse," she says gently. He was _not_ jealous of that dancing soap opera. Okay so Finn was jealous because St. Jerkwad had her, but that was because of her, _not_ that asswipe. She was still talking as she stood up to walk behind the curtain again but he didn't really care about what she had to say unless it was to tell him that he could have her back.

This time he didn't look away as she changed. He could see her shadow clearly as she took off her gown and he knew his eyes were twitching. But he wasn't going to look away. Not ever. Jesse cares about her? Screw that. He can't believe that she wouldn't even hear him out. He knows how he feels about her. And whatever lame ass things she may say to deny it, Finn knows she still cares about him. Because these kind of feelings that they have for each other? It doesn't just go away. It can't go away, because she was _supposed_ to be his. Finn swears he was going to fix this. And he was going to start with that stupid solo tomorrow, because she's _going_ to hear what he has to say, even if he has to sing it to her.


	29. Real rage

"And now I keep having nightmares of all the mothers of all the baby chicks coming after me for revenge." He sat there like an idiot, not knowing what to do, wondering why he couldn't look at her. He braved a glance at her and he could see that she was about to cry. Again. He wanted to completely pulverize Jesse St. James. Annihilate that douchebag until he was nothing but piles of bones and guts in a trash bag.

He was sitting in the corner, as far way from her as possible because if he was even an inch closer, he won't be able to stop himself from completely enveloping her into his giant frame, shielding her away from everything and anyone in sight. And he couldn't do that. He wasn't allowed to.

God where the _hell_ was he when it happened? Why was he never around? Why can't he ever just be _present_ for once in his life? _Santana_ found her for God's sake. Even Santana was around when it matters. He knew this because the girl had called him and told him to come to Glee early the next day. He didn't know why, but that chick freaks him out and she sounded furious on the phone.

He should have known something was wrong. Rachel was supposed to be at Sean's for vocal lessons but she didn't show. He knew because he'd been waiting there, hoping to accidentally-on-purpose run into her. It pissed him off to no end to realize that while he was stupidly figuring how to move in on her, she was busy being pelted by fucking eggs at the school parking lot.

When he'd arrived at Glee earlier, she wasn't around. But everybody else was. He took a seat at the back because Santana looked like she was about to murder someone and he wanted to be as far away from _that_ as possible. But then she opened her mouth. And he thought she didn't look nowhere near to what he was feeling. She'd found Rachel walking through the halls of McKinley in a daze.

"It was like she didn't even know where she was. The girl was spazzing. Then I saw the shit on her face. She saw me and all she said was hello. And then she went into the girls room all calmly like there weren't yolk running all over her hair. I mean it was hilarious, don't get me wrong, it's not like I care. I just went in there to ask who did it so I could congratulate the person. But then she told me it was Vocal Adrenaline. _Hell_ no. Those bitches were on our _turf_. That is _not_ cool. So I just tossed her my gym clothes and told her to take a shower cause the chick was seriously stinking up the whole damn school."

He swore if there was an empty chair nearby, he would have kicked it over. Instead, all he managed was a strangled cross between a growl and a snarl. Then Rachel came in and everyone was quiet. Her steps faltered at the entrance of the class and she looked momentarily terrified. He didn't know if anyone else noticed, but he saw her intake of breath and the slight firm nod of her head before she held it up to look them all in the eye. She tried to smile and he felt like _screaming_ at her. What the hell was she trying to be all strong for? But then her lips did that quivering thing and his anger deflated.

"I'm sure Santana has related to you, my fellow Glee members, of the debacle that happened yesterday between me and the uncouth scoundrels from Vocal Adrenaline." Finn could barely understand her. She only gets this incomprehensible (SAT word. _Score_.) when she's hurt. Or really, really pissed. He found himself moving a few feet back, not saying a word when she walked towards them and took a seat in the middle. "I assure you that I am fine. It merely took me two hours in the shower to get the despicable mess out of my hair. But I think I can still smell it." She shuddered. And then suddenly she was crying and Mercedes was holding her hand and he just could not look at her. He stared at the ground instead, his face contorted with anger. That's when the whole thing came up. Jesse was a _dead_ man.

He heard his name and looked up to see Puck all wound up with murder glinting in his eyes. That wasn't a problem. He shot out of his seat so fast, it almost gave him whiplash.

"Right on. It's time for less talking and more punching." He couldn't really see where he was going, he was too busy forcing himself not to look at her. He couldn't bear to, knowing that this was probably the millionth time he let her down. He didn't realize Mr. Schue was around until he heard his teacher's voice.

"Hey what's going on here?" He looked up and opened his mouth.

"We're on our way to go all Braveheart on Vocal Adrenaline!"

"Guys. Violence is never the answer." What the fuck was he talking about? Violence was the _only_ answer.

"It is when the question is what's the best way to mess up that Jesse kid's _face_!" Puck really couldn't have put it better.

"Mr. Schue," he turned, a little surprised to see Kurt along with them. "Rachel is one of us. We're the only ones who get to humiliate her." Well. At least he was defending her. Kind of. _Whatever_. Finn lead the way and the other boys followed as he stalked towards the door.

"Stop!" Mr. Schue sounded pissed. "Get back here, and sit down!" Finn wanted to tell his teacher to go screw himself, but he figured that wouldn't be such a wise thing to do. Mr. Schue was going off about something. All he knew was that the teacher was wasting precious seconds right now and he really, really wanted to see blood coming out of St. Jerkwad's body.

"We can't just let Vocal Adrenaline get away with turning Rachel into an ommelette!" he burst out, frustrated. Just the last week the older man had suggested stealing Carmel's school statue. And all that happened was their choir room got trashed. Now these assholes physically attacked Rachel and he's telling them to _sit down_?

Finn was furious. Rage was coursing through his veins and it was ridiculously hard to reign it in. But the other guys were returning to their seats and Rachel was dialing the Jackass's number. He could feel his blood boiling at the thought of her still having the fucker's name in her cell. Finn closed his eyes and counted to ten.

When the football players wanted to overturn Artie in that portable toilet, he was around. He was in that stupid shower curtain for a whole day at school for Kurt (He was a douche but the costume gave him hives, so that almost made up for his behavior). He was around for Quinn, even if that wasn't completely voluntary. He stuck around for Puck more times than he could count.

It was funny how he seemed to come through for everyone else but the one who mattered the most.


	30. Playing the hero

He rang the doorbell for the third time, his sleeping bag lay forgotten on the floor. He really really hoped that it wasn't too late and that she was still up. However, the odds were slim since it was almost midnight and the household usually turned in early. Letting out a sigh, he turned around to leave, taking his sleeping bag with him. That's when he heard the click of the front door.

"Finn?" The sight of a familiar face almost made him cry. He was so, so tired.

"I'm sorry for bothering you this late," he said quietly.

"How did you get here? Does your mom know you're out?" She was squinting, looking for something behind him. Probably wondering what his transport was. He walked. She looked concerned. He was undeserving. It almost made him cry.

"Mrs Fretthold, do you think I can stay here tonight?" The woman frowned at him. He couldn't blame her. If it was the other way around, he'd be slightly freaked too. "I don't really have anywhere else to go." Her face softened, and she smiled warmly at him.

"Come on in."

xxx

Sean Fretthold was Finn Hudson's first real life hero. If you didn't count his father. Which Finn sometimes doesn't because he didn't really know his father. People just told him that his old man was a hero, a fighter who died for a noble cause. So his father was a hero just by default. But Sean Fretthold, he earned that title in Finn's life.

xxx

_The first time he went to football camp, Finn was terrified. He was a scrawny fourteen year-old, whose body was too large to walk in and too gangly to be comfortable with. He had stepped off the bus, in awe of the surroundings and he can still remember the anticipation he felt as he looked around at all the older boys, most of whom were probably senior footballers with way more experience than his. It was the first year he could afford it by spending six months making the paper route. His mother paid for half of the fee. When Puck told him about football camp the year before, his face lighting up as he talked about how awesome everything was, he had to contain his jealousy. Finally, he made it to football camp too._

"_Hey beanpole," he was startled out of his catatonic state by a flick to his forehead. Finn looked up to see a big strapping jock looking at him in amusement. "First time at camp buddy?" he nodded, speechless. The boy in front of him was big and muscular. He looked like an actual footballer! He must be older because he didn't look nervous at all. Suddenly Finn realized they were the only two people left and the bus wasn't behind him anymore. Puck had totally jilted him. The tool. "I think you might be drooling a bit there." Finn quickly put a hand up to his mouth to check. He felt his body flame with embarassment as the other boy laughed._

"_C'mon dude. You're gonna be late for the briefing," he continued, slapping Finn on the back before walking towards the building in front of them. He followed blindly. He found Puck inside, already sitting in the front row, an empty space beside him. At least he wasn't a total tool._

"_Where the hell were you?" his friend asked in a whisper. Before he could answer, the briefing began._

_His second day at camp he met the boy again. He found out the guy's name was Sean Fretthold and that they were put in the same team. Puck was on the other side of camp. Sean was a junior from Carmel. He was the quarterback and he was the most amazing player Finn's ever seen in real life. Naturally, he became the team captain. And Finn was his reserve._

"_Man, be cool," Sean had yelled at him after the fourth time the ball slipped from his hands. "It's just a ball dude." Finn stared at him uncomprehendingly. It's never just a ball. It was __**life**__. Wasn't it?_

"_You can't play well if you're too busy freaking out Finnster," Sean told him one evening once practice was over and everyone left the field. The older boy had pulled him back and offered a one on one session if he wanted. __**Hell yeah**__ he wanted. Sean Fretthold was one of the football gods at that camp. He was a legend among the freshmen. People are even saying that he might get picked up by the big leagues. Finn didn't know why the guy was bothering with him so much, but he was definitely grateful. "Look, the ball is like a part of you. When you're holding it, it should feel like it's an extension of your arm, or something."_

"_I know, I know. You told me that," Finn muttered, frustrated with himself. "I suck!" he said, pathetically lying down on the grass. Sean rolled his eyes and sat beside him._

"_Dude if you sucked, do you think I'd be bothering right now? You got the goods man. You just need to control the nerves."_

"_Yeah well how do I do __**that**__?" he asked, one arm over his eyes._

"_Look when you're out there, it's just the ball and you alright? Everyone else is like a distraction. You gotta keep your eyes on the prize. What's the prize?"_

"_The touchdown."_

"_**Exactly**__. And the crowd doesn't even exist man. The crowd is like white noise." Finn didn't ask him what white noise was because he didn't want Sean to __**know **__he was an idiot._

_At the end of camp, there was a big game. All of the blood (some linebacker nearly took off his arm during one game and he had to be benched for the next two), sweat and tears led to that very moment. He was the reserve. He didn't really mind. Finn didn't want to be the guy that threw off the game. Plus, Puck was in the opposing team. Playing against your bestfriend would kinda suck. But three-quarters through the play somebody called a time out. Suddenly Sean was walking off the field, walking towards him. Finn was pulled off the bench and found himself face to face with his captain._

"_Get out there Hudson," _

"_What?"_

"_Finish the game."_

"_No. No I can't! I'm not-"_

"_Quit being such a pansy and get your ass onto that field and finish the damn game Hudson!" In a daze, Finn found himself hauled onto the field, the rest of his team mates waiting expectantly. He turned around to see Sean Fretthold smirking at him. Suddenly they were off, the ball in his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Puck charging towards him. __**Keep your eye on the prize Hudson**__. He saw the line. It was clear. Finn took off running as if his life depended on it and nothing else seemed to exist. He didn't even realize that Puck was closing in on him. Or that his linebacker just ran his bestfriend into the ground. He didn't even realize he made it until the crowd started screaming at an unholy level. He looked up to see his mentor running towards him along with the rest of the team all whooping and chanting his name. A huge smile broke over his face as Sean and Andy, the linebacker, took each of his leg and hauled him up on their shoulders. They won. __**He**__ won them the freaking game. Sean Fretthold was his freaking __**idol**__. _

_When the bus made a stop at Carmel High, Sean had turned around and winked at him and said "See you next year Fab-Finn," before he stepped off. Finn waved at him from the window until he couldn't see the quarterback anymore. He turned back to his seat with a grin on his face and caught Puck staring at him, frowning._

"_Dude, are you like, gay now or something?" He rolled his eyes. Puck was just jealous that Finn got to keep a huge ass trophy and all he got was a medal._

_xxx_

_The next year, Finn couldn't make it to football camp. His mother got laid off and even though she didn't say anything, he knew they were barely getting by. So he used whatever money he had from his paper route for groceries before his mother could buy any because he knew there was no way she'd let him otherwise. To say he was dissapointed was the understatement of the century. He was hoping to see Sean again so he could show the senior how much he was improving. And to tell him he made the team. His mother didn't remember football camp even existed and Finn tried to refrain from mentioning it to her. He didn't want her to feel guilty or anything._

_Still, he figured he could just say goodbye to Puck and the rest of the guys. So that morning when everyone was leaving for camp, Finn took off on his bike to the school. When he reached there he saw Puck hanging out with Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford. He bumped fists with them and decided to wait until the bus came._

"_Oh hey, did you hear about the quarterback from Carmel?" Matt asked. Finn's ears pricked up._

"_Sean Frettwood?" he asked. Puck snorted._

"_Finn totally went all Brokeback Mountain on that dude's ass last summer." Finn rolled his eyes, not bothering with a reply._

"_Actually I did hear about it. It was nasty," Mike said, wincing. Finn furrrowed his brow._

"_What happened?"_

"_People are saying that he got into an accident at a game. Some dude flipped him over or something." Matt began._

"_He's paralyzed man," Mike added. Shock did not even begin to cover his feelings at the moment._

"_Dude," Puck muttered. "That sucks."_

"_Yeah. I heard the guy like, can't walk. Like, ever."_

"_You mean like that wheelchair kid?"_

"_No I think it's worse man. They're saying he can't even move out of his bed- yo Finn! Where're you going?"_

"_Finnster!" Matt called. He ignored them, continuing his walk towards his bike._

"_Douchebag," he heard Puck say. _

_That day while the bus took the rest of his friends to football camp, Finn Hudson pedaled as fast as he could to Carmel, 20 minutes away. When he reached the address, he was wheezing. Collecting himself and making sure he was presentable (his mom told him to never enter a stranger's house without looking civilized. Puck's didn't count.), he rang the doorbell. It took three rings before someone answered. A disheveled woman opened the door and Finn was reminded of his mom for some reason. She had dark circles under her eyes and it looked like she'd been crying. Suddenly Finn wasn't sure this was such a good idea anymore. _

"_Mrs Frettwood?" he asked tentatively._

"_Yes?"_

"_My name's Finn Hudson. I'm Sean's friend. Is it okay if I see him?" She looked surprised. Then she smiled sadly at him._

"_I don't think he wants to see anyone right now Finn."_

"_Oh."_

"_Are you a friend from school?" He shook his head._

"_Football camp. I go to William McKinley. Sean gave me your address last year before camp ended," he added quickly. He didn't want her to think he was like a stalker or anything. She frowned, noticing the bike that was parked at the driveway._

"_Did you use that to get here? You must be exhausted." He shrugged, ignoring the sweat that was making his shirt stick to his back._

"_Nah. I'm used to riding a bike." They both heard a splash and Mrs Frettwood had turned around instantly, leaving him at the door. He followed her because it sounded like something big and if like a cat fell into the pool or whatever, he could totally help get it out. _

_But it wasn't a cat. _

_It wasn't a cat at all. _

_He could barely hear Mrs Frettwood's shriek over the ringing in his ears. Was that what Sean meant when said white noise?_

_Sean Frettwood was in the pool. He was in the pool and it looked like there was a wheelchair in there too. Finn was no genius, but it didn't take one to understand that Sean Frettwood had been using that wheelchair to drive himself into the pool. He snapped out of his trance the moment he saw Sean's mother jumping into the water after her son. In a flash, Finn found himself beside the pool, helping Mrs Frettwood haul her son onto the tiled floor. It wasn't easy considering how loudly Sean was yelling and the amount of trashing his head was doing._

"_Dude!" he yelled, when he almost got headbutted in the face. Finally, they managed to get Sean's whole body out of the water. He was breathing hard, his face scrunched up in pain. Finn felt the hairs on his whole body stand on end when Sean let out the most ear-piercing howl of pain he had ever heard. _

_It was an odd situation to be in. With Sean crying in his arms and his mom crying in the pool. _

_And Finn, well he wasn't sure if the wetness on his face was from the pool water or his tears._

_xxx_

"_What the fuck are you doing here?" He said nothing. The other boy snorted viciously. "Feel sorry for me Hudson? Get the fuck out of my face." He left._

_xxx_

"_Don't you get it asshole? I don't want you here. __**Leave**__."_

_xxx_

"_What the fuck is wrong with you kid? Are you dumb or something? Stop coming back. I don't want you to."_

_xxx_

"_For the love of God Finn. You really need to learn to take a hint. For the final time please. Do. Not. Come. Back."_

_xxx_

_It took him two weeks and six visits, but he finally made it without Sean telling him to fuck off. He stayed for an hour. The boy refused to speak to him so Finn talked instead. And he talked about the time he thought Mrs Sharp from Science was pregnant when she really wasn't. He could have sworn that there was an almost smile on Sean's face when he ended the story with his detention. The rest of summer was spent alternating between his odd jobs and 20 minute rides to Carmel. He became a fixture at the Frettwoods and learned that Mrs Frettwood's cooking skills definitely trumped his mom's. He missed one day because Mr Beckett from the drugstore had told him he'd get double payment if he'd cover the morning shift. The next day when he arrived in Sean's room, the elder boy looked surprised._

"_Oh you're here."_

"_Of course I'm here. Where else would I be?" he asked, confused. Sean turned away, looking out the window._

"_I don't know," he answered, his voice small. "With your other friends who can actually do something other than lie in bed and move his neck?" Finn frowned. Sean had never spoken this way before, and he didn't like it. At all._

"_Nah," he answered. He refrained from mentioning that his other friends were at football camp. _

_He would have been there regardless. After a while, Sean began to actually talk to him. Like, actual conversations that doesn't involve just him telling stories of his idiocy anymore. It was the week before summer was going to end when he mentioned the accident._

"_Third game of the season man," he said quietly. "I coould hear it, Finn. I could hear something breaking and I knew it was me." Finn says nothing. What could he say? The last day of summer, he spent the whole day with the Frettwoods. Sean's mom even invited his mom over for dinner, so he wasn't leaving until after his mom showed up. While their parents were downstairs, Finn was allowed to bring his food up to the room._

"_So school starts tomorrow," he began conversationally. Sean snorted._

"_Yeah. About the only good thing that came out of this fucked up shit is not having to go to school."_

"_I made the team you know." It was the first time he ever mentioned football. He held his breath, waiting for a response. After a while, Sean smiled._

"_Good for you Fab-Finn. I told you you got the goods. You gonna cream my old team now? You probably could you know, since I'm gone."_

"_It's all because of you dude."_

"_What?"_

"_That I made it. If I hadn't met you at football camp, I would have never made the team. I'm serious!" he insisted when Sean scoffed._

"_Talent is talent," Sean said simply._

"_Yeah but I would've never gotten over my nerves if it weren't for you. Dude I worshipped you. I followed you around like a puppy dog." They both laughed at the memory of his eager face nodding at every word coming out of the senior's mouth._

"_I never got to say thank you man."_

"_Don't mention it."_

"_You're my hero dude. Don't you ever forget that. Don't ever let me down." Finn said this quietly, embarassed but also knowing that Sean needed to hear this. He pretended not to notice the tear falling out of the corner of his friend's eye._

"_Good luck with your team, Loser."_

xxx

Mrs Frettwood told him he could sleep in Sean's room. He entered the room quietly, trying not to wake his friend.

"What the hell did you do?" Finn yelped and jumped about a foot in the air. In the dim light, he could see Sean smirking.

"I thought you were asleep."

"Nah. Just contemplating my life as a cripple. So what happened? Not that I'm not elated that you're here in my room in the middle of the night, but what the heck are you doing here Finnster?" Finn laid out his sleeping back and sat in the middle of it, sighing.

"I called Kurt a fag."

"Your glee buddy with the crush on you?"

"Yeah. Well I didn't call him a fag exactly. I said that his blanket was faggy. And his lamp."

"Why?"

"Remember when I told you my mom was dating his dad?"

"Yeah."

"Well apparently now we're living with them. Well, she is anyway." Sean let out a low whistle. "We're supposed to share a room. I kinda freaked a little bit."

"Yeah, kinda."

"I feel like such an_ asshole_. I didn't mean to. I mean I felt like I was getting shafted, you know? I loved my house. It was my _home_. I don't want to live with Kurt and his dad. And I don't want to share a room with Kurt. It's uncomfortable man! I know he _like_ likes me and it makes me feel like I can't do anything in there. Like, I can't even sleep 'cause I'm so freaked. And plus these two assholes at school is all up in my face these days trying to beat me up. They're already ragging on me with the whole Glee thing and this thing with Kurt just makes everything like a million times worse. Do you know they almost pounded him yesterday at school? Yeah, but Ms. Pillsbury found them and they backed off. And then he told me to tell them to lay off him. Yeah that would work. Well," he continued after a pause. "Kurt liked me anyway. He probably hates me now."

"Dude what is up with your life and the lack of drama?"

"What?"

"I mean it's so boring. Look at me. Just yesterday I saw two aeroplanes outside my window. _Two_. And the day before I heard Mrs Norris next door singing Memories cause she was drunk off her ass. After all that excitement you come and tell me you got kicked out of your gay friend's, who has a crush on you by the way, house for calling his blanket faggy?"

He stared stupidly up at Sean. It took a second or two before both boys exploded into peels of laughter. He felt like he couldn't breathe, he was laughing so hard.

"This isn't funny," he wheezed before breaking into giggles.

"Sure it is. The whole thing's so ridiculously fucked, it's a fucking riot."

Finn wiped the tears of laughter of his face. Or maybe they were just tears.

"I need to fix this."

"Yep."

"How the fuck do I fix this?"

"Go to school in a Superman costume and beat the crap out of the bullies?" Sean offered before cracking up again. But Finn wasn't laughing.

"Dude," he said slowly, like he had an epiphany. "I could totally do that." Sean stopped laughing and craned his neck to stare at his friend.

"I was kidding."

"No, no, no. That's totally awesome. It would be so freaking _epic_."

"Oh my god you're not kidding." Finn didn't reply, his head already filled with ideas and plans of execution. Sean shook his head.

"You're batshit insane Hudson."

"Hey, do you think maybe your mom would let me borrow your shower curtain?"

xxx

"So, Rachel came by yesterday."

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. She made me do vocal warm ups. That girl is a tyrant tapped in a deceptively hot little body." Finn snorted.

"Told you."

"She was kinda off though," Sean said carefully, looking at his friend. Finn was gripping the armrest of his chair so tightly, his knuckles were white. "I asked her what was wrong and she just smiled and said she got funked. What the hell does that even mean? Is that what the kids say these days?"

"No," Finn answered quietly.

"Dude. Help a guy out here. You know the two of you are like, my only contact with the outside world."

"It's nothing. She just found out that her boyfriend is a motherfucking jackass." The venom in his voice was unmistakable.

"What did he do?"

"Played her. I _told _her!," he burst out. "I _knew_ that jerk was up to something. But does she listen to me? No! She goes gallivanting off with that douchebag and now look where it got her?" Sean hid a smile.

"Gallivanting huh? Big word. Did you prep for the SATs?"

"It's a Rachel word," Finn muttered distractedly.

"Uh-huh."

"Now she's all heartbroken," he said furiously, ignoring Sean. "and she's walking around with this ugly ass frown on her face. It was almost like that time she went to school in her pajamas. Only that was cuter. Now, she just looks all depressed and stuff."

"So?"

"What?"

"What're you gonna do about it?" Sean chuckled at the gleam in his friend's eye. It was so un-Finnlike, it was hilarious.

"Puck and I've got a plan."

_Ah_. He wishes he could be there.


	31. Musings of an impartial observer

Thomas Raj 'Call-me-Tom-_please''_ Zheng has always prided himself as a person who marches to the beat of his own drum. He thinks it's the whole Chinese-Indian thing that's a major contributing factor, mostly because both his parents are first generation immigrants with the accents to boot. Which in all honesty, made up for very interesting, if slightly mortifying, growing pains, After spending his childhood and most of his teenage years trying to fit in with the 'American' way of life, he finally decided that screw it, he was proud of his background and heck yeah, he was going to flaunt it like nobody's business.

He thinks it's the morning rituals that did it. He had been taking it slowly with his last roomate, starting with the tiny trinkets on his desk and slowly working up to Bollywood's greatest hits blaring through the speakers of his radio. The guy had been cool at first, even if he had been a little weirded out. But the moment the incense came out, yeah that was apparently the last straw. Hank the R.A. had politely called him in during the last days of his first year to tactfully tell him that his roomate had 'health issues' and that he was going to have to change rooms. Really, was it his fault if he tried to bring a little culture into these people's lives?

When he saw the giant of a man that was to be his new roomate, well he was more than a little apprehensive. Finn Hudson looked like the type of guy that would have given him a wedgie in high school. He didn't look like the type of guy that would be open to new and exciting cultural experiences. Tom's seen him before of course. They were in the same Decision Science class the previous semester, and Finn was the guy who sat at the back, his face perpetually stuck at either confusion or boredom. Not that Tom could blame him for that. Decision Science was a bitch and Goldman was so freaking ancient, he'd expected the professor to drop dead right in the middle of lecture every single class. The only reason he even made it through was because of his natural brilliance and that really hot tutor he hired.

"Hey," Tom greeted from the doorway with an armful of boxes. Finn looked up from the photograph he was holding, dropping it like it was hot potato or something, and stared at him in confusion for a few seconds before his face cleared.

"Oh hey. You're Thomas Raj, um. Zang?" the boy asked, as he picked up a post-it to read from.

"Zheng. And call me Tom. _Please_."

"Cool." Finn stood up and walked over to him, taking the first two boxes from his arms and setting them on the empty desk. "I'm Finn."

"Yeah I know who you are. You were in Decision Sience right?" The dark cloud that passed over Finn's face freaked him a little.

"Oh you were in that class?" he asked morosely. Tom nodded. "How'd you do?"

"B+. Goldman's strict as shit. You?" Finn groaned as he sat at the edge of the desk.

"Taking it again this semester."

"Geez. With Goldman? That man needs to retire and just put us out of our misery."

"Nope. New guy. Johnson?"

"Oh. Never heard of him. But uh, good luck anyway."

"Thanks," his new roomate answered wryly. This wasn't so bad. Finn seemed like a cool dude. Maybe this could actually work. He set the remaining box down on the desk.

"Need any help moving in?" Finn asked.

"I could use some help," Tom answered gratefully.

And so his first day with his new roomate was spent helping him get settled in the new room. Finn was cool. And he was popular with the ladies from what Tom could see. Chicks kept calling his name and waving at him all flirty and giggly. But the big lug didn't seem to notice. He'd just nod or wave back and then turn to Tom and ask him about the rest of his schedule.

That was his first inkling that his new roomate was just a little bit strange.

As always, Tom let his colorful personality show by degrees. The first week in, he'd just casually mention now and then how tradition was way important in his family. Finn had nodded his head and told him that was cool. _His_ family weren't exactly all that traditional, he'd said.

The second week, the little trinkets came out. It started with the fat little Buddha on his desk. When his roomate didn't even blink an eye, he brought out Lord Shiva. Finn did a double take with that one when he came back from the bathroom the next morning.

"That is one badass statue," he remarked as he dried his hair with a towel.

"This is Lord Shiva, the destroyer," Tom had answered proudly.

"Huh."

After a month of living together, Tom started to notice that his roomate was just a tiny bit antisocial. Which was weird, considering the amount of people that knew him and all. He was continuously turning down invitations to parties or social gigs. Girls were practically throwing themselves in his path but the guy was either really, really dense or he was just pretending to not notice. Instead what he'd do was sit on his desk almost every single night with a text book popped open and a scary, determined look on his face.

Tom didn't understand the guy. At all. Cause one night out with Finn Hudson had him talking to more girls than the last year and a half of college. And they weren't just chicks. They were hot chicks. So he was definitely disappointed when the boy kept turning down all the invites that he could have totally crashed with. Because apparently hanging out with Finn Hudson made you cool by association.

It was one night, two months in, when it happened. He'd been lying on his bed, minding his own business with the soundtrack of Slumdog Millionaire blaring through his headphones, when he'd looked up to see his roomate staring intently at him. Tom stared back for a few seconds, thinking that he'd look away. But when all Finn did was look at him all intense and thoughtful, yeah it was creepy.

"What?" he'd asked, a little nervously.

"You're smart, right?" Finn asked as he straightened up in his chair and leaned forward.

"First class honors buddy," he answered proudly, because his banker dad and teacher mom had brains and that was his inheritance right there. Finn looked really happy about that.

"Awesome. So um, I'm totally lost in Decision Science. I just don't get this shit."

"So?" he asked. His roommate looked at him sheepishly as he ran one hand over his head.

"So like, do you tutor?" _Huh._ It surprised him to realize that his roomate was all studious and hardworking. Tom figured Finn Hudson was one of those frat boys who partied all night and had the college experience he could only dream of, but so far all the guy did was stay in and poured over his textbooks. Tom had never tutored before. He looked at Finn thoughtfully.

"I'd totally pay you," the boy offered awkwardly, grining hopefully at him. And that was when the flash of brilliance came.

"I'll do it."

"Awesome!"

"But you need to help me."

"With what dude?" Finn asked, a confused and somewhat wary look on his face.

"With elevating my cool status," he said nonchalantly. Finn stared at him blankly.

"You're cool," he said. Tom stared at him like he'd just grown another head. Was this guy _serious_?

"In case you haven't noticed, girls aren't exactly knocking down our door looking for _me,_" he said pointedly. "In the whole time I've been here, the only girls I've talked with was my hot tutor and those exchange chicks from India. Not that there's anything wrong with them, other than the fact that they're all back in India...- Anyway. I'm sure you can kinda see my problem now?"

"You want me to school you on how to pick up girls?" his roommate asked doubtfully. Tom nodded eagerly.

"I don't know man," Finn answered, "I'm not good with that kind of stuff."

"_Please,_" Tom said witheringly as he rolled his eyes. "Chicks flock at you like you're the freaking magnet or something." When the big guy blushed like a tomato, he wondered how such an awkward dude even managed that much pull.

"I just talk to them man. They kind of like it when you listen you know."

"Yeah well then _teach_ me how to listen." Finn was still looking a little apprehensive and Tom tried to maintain that look of indifference on his face, to pretend like it was all or nothing. But the truth was he would've helped the guy out even if he refused. The dude just had that I'm-a-helpless-giant thing going for him. Not helping him would probably make Tom feel like he ran over a kitten or whatever. _Huh. Maybe __**that's**__ the pull_. So Tom was really grateful when his roomate's expression changed from hesitance to a huge smile as he held up his hand for a fist bump.

"Deal."

So hauling Finn Hudson off his drunken ass on that first night out was _not _what he had expected.

"Dog Tags? They're like the biggest band around this area. How'd you know these guys?" Tom asked when Finn told him the frontman wanted to hang out. They had a gig at a pub near the college that night. He wasn't into all that College Emo music to be honest so he's never actually heard them. But according to that girl in his International Finance class, they were supposedly 'hotness overload'. Finn Hudson just shrugged as he leaned against the headboard of his bed.

"I fill in for the drummer once in a while. The dude has 'discipline problems'," he said, complete with the air quotes.

"I didn't know you were into Emo." Finn snorted as he threw his little football into the air and caught it.

"I just play man. The music's not my deal. I'm more old school rock than brooding intellectuals."

"Yeah. I can see that. So we're putting the plan into action right?" Tom asked, a little excited. Finn nodded. " me what I gotta do."

"Just chill," Finn said.

"How do I do that?"

"I don't know. You see a girl you like, and make eye cotact or something. If she doesn't look at you like you're some stalker, than you talk to her. Ask her what she likes or whatever."

"Do I talk about myself?"

"Sure. Just not too much. And you might wanna hold back on that whole oriental values thing."

"But that's what makes me who I am!" he argued, appalled at having to hold himself back.

"I know man, and that's awesome," Finn said placatingly. "But you don't want to put her off. I think girls kind of like to talk about themselves first before they want to know about you. So you gotta play it cool."

"You're really good at this" Tom commented.

"Had a lot of practice."

"I thought you said you're not good at picking up girls."

"Yeah, my girl- ex girlfriend liked to talk. So I learned to listen."

"Oh. She go here?" Tom asked curiously. The dude didn't really talk about his personal life a lot.

"Nope," was all he said and Tom knew that conversation was over.

It began kind of okay. Yeah, he pretty much just stood there like an idiot while Finn had to fan off all the chicks that flocked to him. But then the guy started to introduce him to them instead, so that was kind of awesome. He took Finn's advice seriously and totally listened and by the end of the night, had a few girls dropping their numbers because he was a 'great listener'. He didn't notice that his roomate had been sitting off in a dark corner the whole time throwing back his drinks like there was no tomorrow.

Until the dude suddenly stalked over towards the empty stage and grabbed the mic. Tom was busy talking to this really cute, really _interested _Asian girl, so when he first heard the warbling, he thought it was just a poor sucker who had too much to drink. He turned around and then realized that the poor sucker was his roommate. Finn Hudson was swaying on the stage, mic in hand. And he was singing Nazareth's Love Hurts. Okay, it was actually more slurring than anything else. And when the guy almost broke his ear drums screeching "Love hurrrts!" at the top of his lungs, Tom knew the night was done for. He'd smile apologetically at Amy, the pretty Asian, and got up to pull his friend off the stage before he made a bigger fool of himself. Vaguely he had thought that Finn Hudson probably wasn't all that bad of a singer, if he wasn't so intoxicated.

It was a twenty minute walk to the pub sober. Walking back to the dorms took forty minutes because trying to pull a drunk Finn Hudson along was like trying to to pull a dead cow. He grunted as the giant leaned all of his weight against him. He's Asian-sized, alright? He was so not built for lugging around freakishly tall drunks.

"_Dude_," Tom muttered under his breath. "Can't you walk at _all_?"

"I can walk," Finn slurred. "I learned to walk when I was one and a _half,_" he continued, putting up two fingers and shoving it in Tom's face. Tom slapped his fingers away and rolled his eyes.

"Congratulations," he muttered. "You were a child prodigy."

"I can walk!" Finn crowed as he stumbled on a crack in the pavement. "Oops." The dude giggled. Like seriously, giggled like a_ little girl _as he took his arm off Tom's shoulders and tried to walk in a straight line. Sighing witheringly, Tom followed from behind.

"Did you get a chick Tommy?' Finn asked as he turned to look at him. _Yeah. Walking backwards when you're drunk. That's a good idea._

"I would've if you didn't get so freaking _wasted_."

"Whasser name?" Finn hiccuped.

"Amy."

"Is it Rachel?" he continued, ignoring Tom's response. "You gotta be careful with Rachels man. Rachels are dangerous- _whoa_," He tripped on his feet and Tom winced as his head barely missed the lamp post. Finn fell on his ass and cursed in pain. And then just sat there on the curb with his feet splayed out. _Dear God_. This was going to be a _long_ night.

"What was I saying?" he slurred. "Oh yeah. Rachels. Don't go there man. Don't even- _No_. And if she's got a fruit in her name?" Finn shook his head furiously from side to side as Tom crouched down next to him and pulled at his arm. "_Toxic_. They'll eat you alive and you're a goner. Dead. _Poof._"

"Uh-huh. Dude! Get the fuck up man!" Tom yelled in exasperation when Finn just wouldn't budge.

"Sorry," Finn mumbled and struggled to stand. It took another two minutes to get him upright. Putting his arm around his roomate once again, they continued walking. "No Rachels. You hear me man?"

"Yeah yeah I hear you," Tom mumbled, cursing the wind for his bad luck.

"I'm serious! No _Rachels_ man. They'll _kill_ you And Rachels with fruits in their names-"

"Are toxic. Got it. Now shut the hell up so I can concentrate on getting us both home before the freaking sun rises."

"Kay." _Rachel with a fruit in her name_, Tom thought wryly. What a heartbreaker.

Finn woke up the next day with the worst hangover known to man and absolutely no recollection of last night's events. Tom refrained from mentioning it to him because he figured Rachel with a fruit in her name was probably a sore subject.

Amy the Asian called him two days later and Finn Hudson was a Godsend.

For his first tutoring gig, he should have been awarded a medal for patience. Finn Hudson was by turns the most annoying person on earth to teach and the best student in the world. He wasn't kidding when he said he didn't get this shit. He really didn't. Tom honestly thought that he was going to burst a blood vessel from trying to refrain his screams of frustration.

But when he got it. Oh man when he_ got it_. No lie, Tom felt like a proud papa. Like in the future, when he gets a kid and teaches him how to ride a bike without the training wheels, and the kid nails it, he knows he's going to feel the same way he felt when Finn Hudson's face lit up with pure understanding at 2 a.m. on a Saturday night.

Tom figured out the problem about a month in. It wasn't that the dude was dumb, he just had a hard time focusing. And by hard, he meant that if you left Finn Hudson alone with the textbook for five minutes to use the toilet, you came back to find his head slumped on the open pages, snoring his heart out. So it was during the week before mid terms that he did a little experiment and bought an extra cup of espresso on his way to another study session in their room. Finn was already in front of his desk, the textbook o pened to page sixty four. Tom snorted when he groaned and banged his head against the book.

"Here," he said, setting the cup down in front of his roommate. Finn peered into the little hole of the lid and blanched.

"Gross! Dude get that thing the hell away from me!"

"What are you? Twelve?" Tom asked scornfully. "Drink up."

"No way. Coffee tastes like _tar_."

"I'm your tutor and I am telling you to drink that thing."

"No," Finn answered obstinately, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Do you wanna pass this stupid class or not?"

"What does-"

"Do you?"

"Duh."

"Okay. So I'm doing a little experiment here. See your problem Finn, is that you lack focus. And you fall asleep at the drop of a hat when you study, which is kind of funny when you think about it. Cause you don't even sleep all that much any other time. I mean I wake up in the middle of the night and you're watching some movie on your lap top or-"

"So I lack focus. What the hell does coffee have to d with it?"

"What's so bad about coffee?"

"It tastes like shit."

"I think it's going to help you focus. And I think when you're focused, you're gonna get it. C'mon it's not that bad," Tom said in encouragement when the big guy frowned at him doubtfully. Finn heaved a huge sigh and Tom resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Pinching his nose, he took a sip and choked.

"Dude! That is _bitter _shit!"

"Oh for the love of- Here," Tom said as he threw a bottle of sugar at his roommate. "Go crazy."

When he said go crazy he didn't think it would mean five spoonfuls of sugar in one tiny cup of coffee. It took a while, but Finn got used to the coffee and Tom's likelihood to go into cardiac arrest steadily decreased. Finn was a surprisingly fast learner once he got through the basics and Tom took full credit when he passed his mid term with a respectable B.

It was after two months of living together when Tom had came back early from his weekend home to find Finn Hudson asleep on his bed with the sounds of Barbra Streisand crooning off his lap top. He knew it was Barbra the second he opened his door because it was his mom's firm belief that there were only two female singers in this world worth listening to, and that was Barbra Streisand and Lata Mangeshkar. The guy was jolted awake by the slam of his door and scrambled to snap his lap top shut in an instant.

"So Funny Girl, huh?" Tom asked nonchalantly as he dropped onto his bed, the curry his mom had packed for his 'sweet, _little_ roommate' in one hand. Finn looked at him sheepishly as he grabbed the back of his neck.

"You know it?"

"My mom is like the president of her fan club or something."

"Oh."

"Uh huh."

The next day, his Bollywood tunes came out of the woodwork in full force. Finn didn't bat an eyelash.

The second time he ever heard of Rachel with a fruit in her name was the second time he saw Finn Hudson drunk. Coming back from his date with Amy the Asian, now Amy the girlfriend, Tom returned to an empty room. Which was a little weird in itself since Finn Hudson was a homebody and people had generally stopped asking him to hang out by that time. But he did go out every now and again. Just the week before, he had stood in as the drummer for Dog Tags when their drummer had once again succumbed to his coke-head ways. So he didn't really think all that much of it.

By two a.m. though, just as he was about to go to sleep, his celllphone rang and he frowned when he saw Finn's name lighting up his screen.

"Yo," he greeted. "Where are you?"

"Hey man." Tom frowned at the unfamiliar voice and sat up from his bed. "Hudson's kinda plastered as shit right now and uh, we sort of need to be somewhere else."

"Who is this?" Tom asked, inwardly groaning. _Not again_. "And where are you?"

"It's Matt from Dog Tags? Yeah we're at Todd's. You know the bar over by the-"

"Yeah, yeah I know," Tom grumbled. "I'll be there in twenty."

So that was how, at three in the fucking _morning_, did he found himself dragging the body of a boy twice his weight up from the stool he was slumped over. At least Finn had brought his car this time around. Tom slapped the back of his roommate's head as he rummaged through the pockets of his jackets to find the keys.

"Hey Tommy," Finn slurred, smiling that stupid, dumb smile of his when he realized his roommate's presence. "What're you doing here?"

"Saving your drunken ass," Tom muttered as he wrapped his fingers around the keys.

"Oh," Finn answered, nodding his head dumbly. "You're a superhero. Super Tom!"

"God you're so fucking drunk," Tom answered, shaking his head as Finn tried to stand and imitate a superhero's pose. "How much did you have to drink man?" Finn frowned, his brows furrowed in concentration.

"Uh.. Nine," he mumbled as he held up four fingers. "No ten! Wait that's not right," he mumbled in confusion as he leaned his body against his friend's.

"Forget about it. C'mon, try walking. One step at a time, that's it. C'mon- aww Geez! Watch where you're going man," he hissed when Finn walked into the stool at the end of the bar.

"I didn't see that coming," Finn mumbled. "Why are all the furniture moving?"

"Cause you're in a freaking musical," Tom answered sarcastically, nodding at the bartender in thanks when the man held the door open for them.

"Know what's a musical?" Finn slurred, his head lolled to the side. "West Side Story."

"Is it now?"

"Uh huh." Finn folded himself into the passenger seat as Tom slammed the door shut, eternally grateful they didn't have to walk home, even if the car was a piece of junk. When he got into the driver's seat, Finn was quiet as he leaned his head against the window, his breath fogging up the glass. Tom pulled out of the parking space and they drove in silence for almost five minutes.

"She said I was Tony."

"What?"

"She's Maria, you know," Finn said, ignoring his question. "She's Maria all along. I was supposed to be Tony." Tom nodded his head, pretending to listen. Finn Hudson's tendency to overshare when he's drunk was just a little disconcerting. It was the total opposite of who he was sober, where he was always guarded with his feelings. It kind of felt like an invasion of privacy to be honest, to witness him when he's drunk.

"But now there's another Tony," Finn continued quietly as he leaned back against his seat. "And he's gonna be the one in the front row. Not me." It was quiet in the car as Tom tried to think of something to say. Just how drunk was Finn anyway? He looked sideways and found his friend with his eyes closed, his arms folded across his chest.

"Who's Maria?" Tom asked nonchalantly.

"What do you mean who's Maria?" Finn asked incredulously. Tom rolled his eyes.

"I mean, who's Maria?"

"Rachel man," Finn mumbled, eyes still closed. "Rachel's Maria."

"Rachel with the fruit in her name?"

"What?"

"Nothing. So this Rachel chick's the reason you're completely totaled huh?"

"Correct-o," Finn said as he nodded his head vigorously. "You're really smart, you know?"

"I know. So what's the occasion?" he asked as they reached home. Tom killed the engine and turned to look at his friend. Finn was staring at him in confusion. Tom figured that when he's eighty or something, and if his college roommate ever crosses his mind, that expression right there, would be the one plastered on Finn's face in his head.

"Huh?"

"What were you celebrating? You know, what were you drinking to?" he asked, miming Finn throwing back a shot with his hand.

"Oohhhh," Finn slurred in understanding. "Her birthday man. Her birthday's like, her favorite day ever. Oh no wait," Finn said, frowning. "Maybe that's Barbra's birthday. No, no, no. Defintely_ her_ birthday."

"Huh."

Operation Get Finn Over Rachel With the Fruit in Her Name commenced exactly two days after that drunken incident when Tom related the issue to Amy the girlfriend. She had shook her head sympathetically the whole time, the occasional sigh and a "Poor Finn", scattered here and there throughout the whole conversation. Finn had woken up the day after and asked him if the whole awkward talk had actually happened, and apparently his silence was enough of an answer because the guy had buried his face in his pillow and groaned loudly. Tom figured since Finn knew that he knew already, than it was totally okay for Amy the girlfriend to know. He did _not_ count on her clasping her hands together excitedly and coming up with a Project Fix Finn.

"I don't know Ames," he said, voice full of doubt. He was a big believer in not butting in, but then again they've only been together a few months. What if he says no and she thinks he think her idea's stupid? Not that he didn't, but, well. Finn warned him that sometimes in relationships, you need to do something you don't really like to keep the girl happy. Was this sometimes?

"Isn't this kind of personal?" he asked tacfully. The girl in front of him shook her head vigorously.

"Our friend is in need Tom. Sometimes a person just needs a push in the right direction because he himself is stuck. That's where friends like us come in. You told me yourself he has been hung up on this girl ever since you've known him. It's time to move on, don't you think?" She capped off her little speech with a huge, encouraging smile and how could he say no to that? She was the psych major after all. She would know better than him anyway.

So that first week had him acting all kinds of weird in front of his friend. It got to the point where Finn actually stopped him during a study session to ask what was wrong.

"Nothing!" he had exclaimed nervously.

"You're acting kinda funny. I mean, you practically begged me to go to that club last night and then all you did was stand around looking bored."

"Yeah but you had fun right? I mean those two girls last night, were they hot or what? And that tiny little blonde chick was all over you on that dance floor."

"I guess," Finn answered, still looking at him funny.

Damn it, this guy was hard to please. Two whole weeks of dragging the guy all over the hot spots in the city was all for nothing. Finn looked like he had fun and he sure flirted right back with all those girls,but he was still the one to call it a night every time and Tom saw all those numbers go into the trash can the minute they got home. There was that one night where the dude had blinded him with his massive make out session with Mary Beth Stevenson, but he was pretty sure Finn was half-drunk at the time and he shot out of his seat like a boomerang when they were done. Tom was starting to feel... icky. It was _weird _okay, trying to push his friend into a lifestyle of depravity, especially since he was practically the last guy on earth who knew the first thing about it.

"Let's hang out tonight," he said on Thursday evening. It was going to be his last attempt. He told the girlfriend this firmly when she suggested it. Amy had just rolled her eyes and pecked him on the lips. Finn looked up from his notes and shook his head.

"I got a quiz tomorrow man."

"C'mon. Live a little. It's just one quiz. It's like what? Two percent of your grade?" he tried to wheedle. Finn scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Says the man who almost cried when Waldon refused to give him full marks."

"Hey! Those marks were well deserved. My paper was flawless and that old geezer has a stick the size of a totem pole up his ass."

"It was like, two marks, freak," Finn remarked, raising his eyebrows. "It didn't even round up as one percent."

"Whatever," he muttered. "C'mon man, Amy's dragging me to one of her 'social gatherings' and you know I'm bad at those. I need someone to talk to when I'm there."

That was when Finn gave him _the look_. _Uh oh_. He was totally on to Operation Get Finn Over Rachel With the Fruit in Her Name. His friend just stared at him intently for a few secomds before he sighed.

"Look man," he said slowly. "I know what you're trying to do. And I appreciate it and all, but I'm fine." _Crap. _He knew. He probably knew all along. There was a giant, _giant _elephant in the room that was sucking out all the air from Tom's lungs. He_ knew _they shouldn't have butted in!

"Sorry man" he apologized after maybe five minutes of silence where Finn had apparently went back to his notes. Finn looked up and grinned, a little warily, shrugging his shoulders.

"No harm done."

No more, he told the girlfriend that night. Project Fix Finn was officially canned. So three days later, when Finn casually mentioned in passing that he had a date with Mary Beth Stevenson, he'd automatically glared at the tiny Asian girl because he was convinced it was all her doing. But her surprised expression told him otherwise. Finn had burst out laughing at the looks on their faces and told them that he didn't need help finding a date, thank you very much.

The days leading up to Finn's date night, Amy kept bugging him incessantly about it. How was Finn doing, she wanted to now. Was he excited? Because Mary Beth Stevenson was excited. Was he nervous? Don't be, cause Mary Beth Stevenson was practically in love with him already. Dear God, that little Asian chick was nosy. When he told her that maybe she should just mind her own business, yeah, she gave him the silent treatment for three whole days. _Women_.

He had to admit, he was sort of curious too, but he wasn't going to go and pry anymore. Because he was a man. And men just don't do that. So he hovered a little on the night itself, so what? His buddy was reentering the dating world for the first time in years and he was just a concerned roommate. He was a little worried to be honest. Cause Finn didn't actually seem all that interested in the girl. Unless you counted sticking his tongue down her throat for thirty minutes interested, which most people probably did. That Mary Beth Stevenson was really something though. She had that tight little body with those curves all in the right places. He never said anything cause the girlfriend would probably hang him by the balls, but if he was single and had even a sliver of a chance, he would definitely tap that.

It was hard trying to keep all that excitement to himself. And Amy was still giving him the cold shoulder. So when Finn's cell went off that night while he was watching Jet Li totally kicking some dude's ass, the excitement just got to him. He ended up totally oversharing with that random girl on the other line, which he realized, after she totally hung up on him, was probably not a good idea. She probably thought he was a weirdo. But Finn didn't even have her name in his phonebook, so she couldn't be that important, right?

When it was two in the morning and Finn didn't come home, Tom did a little, _manly_, dance. His man Finn was getting some action that night, he was sure of it. He knew it was probably just a little creepy for him to care so much, but Finn was a good friend. Who else would put up with the burning incense in the mornings and the boisterous hindi music (and occasionally Cantopop cause that shit was the _bomb)_ in the evenings?

Finn Hudson came home the next morning humming under his breath in yesterday's clothes, and Tom just couldn't resist the fist bump. His friend had rolled his eyes but obliged it with a laugh. The girlfriend ended the cold war that afternoon to tell him that no, Finn wasn't getting laid last night because Mary Beth Stevenson had banged against her door at eleven and announced red in the face, that Finn Hudson was the weirdest boy she ever met. Things were getting hot and heavy, Mary Beth Stevenson told Amy, when suddenly Finn had pushed her off him and practically ran out the door, apologising profusely. She'd proceeded to bitterly question the boy's sexuality and called him a sexophobic freak. To which the girlfriend had calmly replied with sexophobe not being a word and that just because Finn wasn't as sexually promiscuous as _some _people did not make him a freak.

Which was when Tom realized he was in love with the girlfriend. Like, _love _love.

But all of it begs the question, what the hell _was_ Finn Hudson doing that night? Damn the girlfriend and her meddlesome personality rubbing off on him. When he had nonchalantly brought it up one night three days later, Finn had snorted and chucked the toy football at his head saying that he was wondering when Tom was going to bring it up.

"So where'd you go?" he asked once they've established that yes, he _was _a nosy little man and it was all Amy's fault. Finn shrugged.

"I just walked."

"All night?" Tom asked incredulously.

"Well, I went to Todd's for a while, thought about drinking myself into oblivion. But then I thought better." _Thank God,_ Tom thought, because with Finn's phone in the room, who was going to be carrying his drunken ass back home?

"So I just walked. Cleared my head, did a little thinking. Life-changing stuff, you know," Finn continued sarcastically.

"You and this Rachel chick-"

"It's like that movie we watched."

"What movie?"

"That hindi movie. You know, with the guy and the girl falling in love and getting torn apart?" The boy looked so earnest, he didn't have the heart to tell him that ninety nine percent of hindi movies were about a guy and a girl falling in love and getting torn apart.

"Yeah."

"Well they weren't together but that didn't mean they didn't still love each other. You know? I mean, it's kinda different. Rachel's not crippled and I'm not some reformed playboy or whatever, and I don't know what she's feeling these days. I can guess, but I don't know..." Finn trailed off and sighed and Tom figured this was as close to opening up as this guy was going to get.

"Anyway, they just... they just love each other. And why should you move on from that anyway? I don't want to stop loving her. I _can't_ but even if I could, I don't want to. And it's not like I'm depressed or anything. I screwed up and it's my fault it's this way, but we move on right?" He looked up, as if looking for confirmation.

"Yep," Tom answered, because what else was there to say? Finn nodded and continued.

"We just live. And I think I'm doing that pretty well. Okay, so there are some nights where I just wanna get wasted and wallow in misery, but I'm living my life and she's living hers and maybe someday when we're both better people, we'd find a way, like that crippled chick and that really emo guy. Right now there are things I can do better, because I'm going to be someone someday, I know that now. And she's got those dreams she needs to make come true and- Well. You know," he finished, shrugging his shoulders and smiling helplessly.

Tom thought it was kind of bizarrely interesting to have a roommate living his life straight out of a plot from a Bollywood movie.

He stopped being so worried the next time time Finn was wasted because he figured all that bottling things up inside needed some sort of outlet, right? And it wasn't like the guy was addicted or anything. It was once a month, sometimes two. And Drunk Finn was hilarious as hell, especially since he had specifically divided himself into all these personalities one night. There was Drunk Finn, who was usually the one talking. And he was usually pissed at Stupid Finn, whom he claimed had single-handedly ruined their lives ever since he was born. And then there was Just Finn, cause he was just Finn. Sometimes there was whom Tom had personally dubbed as Pathetic Finn, when he'd go on and on all night about Rachel this and Rachel that.

"Rachel what?" Tom had asked once, snorting as Finn downed another shot. He was feeling pretty buzzed himself that night, which he knew was not good. But they would be walking back anyway. The worst that would happen was that they'd both pass out and wake up to and find themselves in the middle of the road or something.

"What what?" Finn slurred, laying his head down on the countertop.

"Rachel with the fruit in her name. What's the fruit anyway?"

"Berry."

"Rachel Berry?"

"Berries smells like Rachel," Finn mumbled. "But Rachel smells like flowers, like a _lot_ of flowers," he stressed, bugging his eyes out at the word flowers. "Like a fucking _garden_ man." Tom couldn't hold back the snort and laughed hysterically, falling off his stool in the process.

But Tom figured the best drunk Finn of all was probably Show Finn. Show Finn only came out when the dude was extra, _extra_ wasted. Show Finn was a freaking hoot because he would sing anything. Literally _anything_. He knew because he'd asked Show Finn to sing the theme song to Happy Days once as they made their ritual trek back home, and the boy had hobbled off into the middle of the road and slurred the lyrics out at the top of his lungs, complete with awkward dance moves and all.

When his roommate received a package in the mail that contained a homemade DVD and some sort of booklet, Tom witnessed firsthand the power Rachel Berry had over Finn Hudson. Admittedly, the girl was pretty impressive. He did not expect_ that _voice to come out of that tiny body, and West Side Story was almost as epic as his favorite Bollywood movie, 'Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge' (the hero was where he got his middle name from, after all), except that it was way more depressing.

But _Finn_, man Tom didn't think he even blinked _once_ throughout the whole thing. It was like she had him under some sort of spell or something. And he had this look on his face the whole time, total and utter pride wouldn't do the expression justice. The poor guy really was screwed for life.

He decided to grow a beard over the holidays and Finn did a double take when he came back. He then proceeded to laugh his ass off until he was blue in the face. Tom reciprocated by throwing his pillow smack dab in the middle of said face, which had shut him up for five seconds, before he broke into another peal of laughter as he rolled on his bed and clutched his sides.

Him and the girlfriend decided to join the new Zen community on campus, where a lot of the guys had beards just like his. He tried to cajole Finn into joining, but the dude only made it to the first meeting. And he totally fell asleep halfway through. In his second semester of living with Finn Hudson, Tom learned the art of meditation and was one step closer to his long lost Buddhist roots. Finn told him he was nuts, but the guy's form of therapy was to drink himself stupid once a month, so what did he know?

It was really cool to realize that their study sessions have turned into actual discussions as opposed to just him showing Finn how to work a problem. Tom signed himself up as a tutor at the Student Enhancement Unit because he realized that he was a kick-ass teacher, if Finn was anything to go by.

When Finn found out that he was graduating with second class honors and told him, Tom and the girlfriend decided to throw a little shindig to celebrate. By then the three of them were practically a small clique of their own, and Amy had, by some miracle, managed to book Todd's for the night (He had a feeling Gary, the owner, was probably feeling a little nostalgic at the thought of losing one of his best customers).

He should have guessed that it was going to lead to another epic drunk episode.

When Show Finn had strode on to the stage with a mic in hand and began belting out Separate Ways, he knew it was time for the party to be over. So he pretty much pushed everyone out the door to Finn Hudson's rendition of Journey and turned to share a knowing look with Gary over the counter. Tom and Amy waited patiently until the song was over before propping each of Finn's arm over their respective shoulders, the girlfriend giggling the whole walk to the car as Finn hummed Somebody to Love under his drunken breath. She loved Show Finn even more than he did.

Unfortunately, Show Finn didn't last all that long because for the next two _extremely_ long days, Tom was forced to entertain Drunk Finn and Pathetic Finn by turns as the boy drank can after never ending can of beer.

"Stupid Finn ruined our lives," he would mumble once in a while, in between his God-awful moans of how he had let the best thing that ever happened to him slip through his fingers. By the end of the first night, Tom just really, really wanted Sober and Whole Finn to come back. When Finn wasn't complaining, he was slumped against the headboard of his bed, brooding in silence. The cloud over his head had morphed into a giant storm over the whole room by the time day two arrived.

He knew it was bad, because Finn had never been _this_ intoxicated for _this_ long before. And he knew he should be worried because if he was sober, Finn would have totally kicked his own ass by then. But he couldn't help it. Tom was just really, really _annoyed_. The way he saw it, the resolution was so fucking simple, even a five year old could understand it.

"Oh my God!" he had finally yelled on the second night, his patience already reaching its limit. "Man the _hell _up and get off your ass to call the girl already if it's so bad! If not, just shut. The. Fuck. Up." All Drunk Finn did was stare at him blankly. Screaming in frustration, Tom had grabbed his jacket and stormed out the door towards the girlfriend's place. Three calming hours later, during which she had gently coaxed him to check up on his roommate before he drinks himself to death, Tom trudged back towards his room in resignation. He opened the door to find Finn hunched over his trash can, puking his guts out, and Tom's own lamp on the floor, broken in two. Tom heaved a huge sigh as he walked over to thump his friend in the back. The boy was lucky that lamp was a butt-ugly gift from his aunt.

Finn woke up the next morning with a hangover from hell, and Tom almost felt bad for him when the guy next door played his dance music out loud, surely causing his head to spin even worse than it already was. But he figured the big lug deserved it for making him go through two fucking days with all his multiple drunken personalities.

"Sorry man," Finn had apologized sheepishly a few hours later. He waved it off because you just don't kick a guy when he's down.

Two days later and they both decided to attend Bobby Silverman's annual end of semester bash just because it was going to be Finn's last one. Tom was kind of bummed to be losing his roommate, but he was moving in with the girlfriend next semester so it wasn't so bad. Some sophomore had somehow attached herself to Finn's arm and he watched in amusement as the dude kept shooting him _Help me!_ Looks. He merely held up his hand in a thumbs up and laughed hysterically at the glare he received in return. Tom realized he had been ditched an hour later when he saw said girl attach herself to a different guy by the food table.

He went back an hour after that to find that he was locked out of his own room. Tom had frowned and wondered if maybe he'd used the wrong key in the beginning. It took him about a minute to realize that no, it was just that Finn had latched the deadbolt.

Which could only mean one thing.

His eyes were probably as wide as saucers when he realized that his roommate had a girl in their room for the first time in like, _ever_. Tom guessed he just had to be grateful that it wasn't the sophomore. He crashed over at the Amy's for the night, but had pounded furiously on their door at six thirty in the morning because he needed his wallet to _eat._

"Open the hell up man!" he yelled, because he was hungry and Amy ran out of cereal. Finn had flung the door wide open, his face pissed. "Finally!" Tom whined. "You only took-" He stopped short at the sight before him.

Imagine his surprise to find Rachel Berry standing awkwardly behind his roommate, wringing her hands together. In the flesh. He noted the way she had missed a buttonhole on her blouse and how the rest of the buttons were misplaced, and he noted the fact that Finn had his shirt on backwards. He couldn't stop the grin on his face even if he wanted to.

"Hey you're-" _Rachel with the fruit in her name_, he wanted to say. Or _that girl I've watched on DVD __five million times_. But he couldn't because Finn had cut him off immediately.

"We're busy," his roommate muttered through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at him. Tom merely raised an eyebrow as he walked in to retrieve his wallet on the table. He remembered to flash Rachel Berry a knowing grin when he walked past her and turned around when he reached the doorway, holding up his hand in mock salute to the both of them. He closed the door quietly behind him.

_Well what do you know_, he mused as he walked down the hallway. It seemed that they found their way after all. The girlfriend was going to _freak_.


	32. Catch a falling star

**A/N**: A little break from all the re-uploading because mini Finchel got a hold of me =). Reviewing would be you know, awesome.

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><p>He holds back a groan as he leans back in his seat. This really blows. He really doesn't want to stay for this whole stupid talent show thing. For one thing, most of his classmates aren't even here 'cause they get to be at home and play with Super Mario or whatever, which is so much better than just sitting around school after school's ended. Why anyone would want to stay back in school when you're free to go is beyond him. For another, Finn kinda hates Azimio 'cause he's mean and he pulled that stupid prank where he'd written 'kick me' on a piece of paper and stuck it to Finn's back and everyone laughed at him at the playground.<p>

He hates carpool, he hates that his mom's gotta do a double shift, and he really, _really_ hates that their house just happens to be smack dab in the middle of the school and the Adams'. And right now, Finn thinks he kinda hates Isabelle too for being in this stupid talent show in the first place. Usually she just makes him blush, 'cause she's older and she's always nice to him, even when her stupid brother pokes him on the side continuously in all their car rides. It sucks 'cause she already did her dance thingy, but they have to wait for another _five_ kids before they announce the winner and he really just wants to go home.

The auditorium is filled with polite applause as Ms Branch introduces the next performer, and his head perks up at the slight commotion in the front row, where two men are clapping enthusiastically, the bigger one with a camcorder in his hand and the smaller one kind of flailing in his seat a little. He smiles, 'cause they're kinda funny, especially when the smaller man starts blowing air kisses to the stage.

Finn looks up at the direction of his kisses, and finds a little girl on stage about his age. He knows her. Well, kind of. She's not in his class though, she's in the next one. They only really have two classes for second graders. He can't remember her name, but she's standing up on stage with the biggest smile he's ever seen, and he ignores Azimio's elbow to his gut as she takes a deep breath in front of the microphone.

"Hi," she says brightly, her smile growing even wider if that was possible. "My name is Rachel Berry, and I'll be singing Catch a Falling Star, a classic song made famous by the legendary Perry Como."

_Wow she talks really fast_, he thinks, as she takes another deep breath and turns to nod Mr Vernon, their music teacher who's sitting on the piano stool. Azimio is snickering beside him, laughing at her pigtails and commenting that she's singing a baby song, but Finn just ignores him. He actually likes her pigtails, and whatever, he used to love this song when his mom sang it to him. She still does sometimes, when he's down with the flu or broke his wrist or something.

And then she starts to sing.

He watches as her voice seems to just come pouring out of her, her eyes closed as she sways gently from side to side. It feels a little like when his mom comes home late and there's ice cream in the freezer that he sneaks a generous helping of, because Mrs Norman who babysits him sometimes never really notices when Jeopardy is on tv. There's a kind of rush he feels as he stares at her, eyes wide, and goosebumps running along his forearms.

He's got goosebumps.

His mom never sang to him like _this_. He thinks she sounds like those princesses he watches at his neighbor's house sometimes when his mom can't find a babysitter and he has to stay over for dinner. Lucy, his neighbor, is five and she loves Beauty and the Beast and The Little Mermaid, and sometimes she makes Finn act like he's a prince. He does it mostly 'cause she can cry like nobody's business if he doesn't, and because he kinda actually likes Lucy. She's like a kid sister.

Anyway, he thinks this girl sounds like one of those princesses, only you know, like a kid and she's _real_. She's got her eyes closed and he doesn't even notice that his mouth is open until she's on her last note and his mouth feels a little dry. She opens his eyes, and he thinks she looks a little scared for a moment before she stands up straight and gives the brightest beam he has ever seen.

The room breaks into applause again and he joins in, clapping enthusiastically and ignoring Azimio's comment about her being lame and a baby. What does _he_ know anyway? Finn can't remember what she said her name was, but he thinks maybe after this if he ever sees her around or something, he could talk to her.

Maybe she would sing again.

That would be _awesome_.


	33. Last Friday night

**A/N: Work is so totally kicking my ass right now. This took me a whole week to finish. Reviews = Love!**

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><p>"Finn," she says in a sing-song voice as she sits on the edge of the bed, gently running her hand up and down his arm. "Baby, wake up." She grins at the aggravated look on his face as he swats her hand away and turns on his side. Determined, she pulls him back by the arm, gently shaking him.<p>

"Finn, Finn wake up!" she says, a little louder as he groans and resists her.

"s'too early," he mumbles.

"It's time to seize the day!"

"Five minutes," he pleads as his eyes remain stubbornly closed. Undeterred, she keeps shaking him until he finally heaves a huge sigh of resignation and forces his eyes open. Rachel is smiling at him, her beam blinding as she looms over him. He doesn't know what she's so happy about anyway. How can anyone be _happy_ this early in the morning?

"Work sucks ass," he mumbles sourly, frowning at the thought of leaving his tiny bed. Yeah it's tiny and barely fits him and Rachel together. So what if they couldn't have bought a bigger one if they could have afforded it because it's already taking up a quarter of their tiny room to begin with? It's his bed and he wants to stay in it and sleep.

"It's Friday," she says soothingly, pulling his arm to force him upright. "We have all weekend to be lazy. C'mon Finn, today's a big day!"

"What are you so happy about?" he mutters, allowing her tiny body to pull him out of bed and to the bathroom. Rachel gasps dramatically, stopping in her tracks to look at him with wide eyes. His memory returns before she could start her tirade, although he could already see the pink spots on her cheeks.

"Ah, right. The audition," he says quickly, wide awake.

"Not _just_ the audition Finn. It's Evita. Evita! Granted, yes it is an off Broadway production, and it's not the most well-recognized company at that, but regardless-"

"Evita is your dream role and the chance to play her in any way, shape or form has been one of your many, _many_ lifelong dreams," he finishes, grinning as she rolls her eyes at him, knowing he's off the hook for remembering that. Of course he does. She's only said those words like, a million times in the past two weeks, ever since she came home one day, jumping up and down like she was on crack as she practically shoved the casting call ad in his face. He looks down at her and sees that she's already dressed, her feet tapping impatiently against the floor. He realizes that she hasn't stopped moving the whole time he's been awake.

"How long have you been up?"

"Since five. I couldn't sleep," she admits, at the surprised look on his face. "So I made pancakes!"

"You what?" he asks blankly.

"Pancakes. You know, those round fluffy things we eat with honey? Or in your case, drown in it."

"Haha, very funny. You can't stop moving can you?" he asks in amusement, as she throws a towel in his face. He lets it dangle off his shoulder, biting back a laugh.

"I can too."

"Yeah? Stop moving."

"I'm not moving."

"Stop tapping your feet."

"Oh please, like that means anything,"

"Now your fingers."

"You're being ridiculous Finn," she tells him witheringly, keeping her fingers stationary. He could practically see her vibrating in place.

"Rachel you need to relax. You know you're gonna be awesome."

"You're just saying that because you love me," she answers, her feet going back to tap incessantly against the floor.

"Yeah, well I love you 'cause you're awesome," he retorts, grinning as he leans down to kiss her cheek.

"You're cute Hudson, I'll give you that," she says with a grin.

"Thanks, I try real hard."

"Thanks Finn," she says genuinely, looking up at him with a grateful smile. He grins as he hooks both his index fingers through the belt loops of her skirt and pulls her against him.

"Go kick ass Berry," he says in a serious tone as he leans down to kiss her.

"I will. Now hurry up before Al gets to all the pancake."

He gasps dramatically, straightening up and hurrying towards the bathroom.

"You left all the pancake with him? Rach, you know the dude's a pancake hogger. You should have hoarded some for me. I'm your boyfriend."

Xxx

She leaves him a message asking him if he'll be home soon. He looks up at the mountain of payroll he has yet to go through and sighs, sending a quick reply of the negative.

Ten minutes later and he realizes that she hasn't replied to his text and frowns. Rachel always has the last word, no matter what. Even if it was just to send an 'I love you more' to his 'love you too'. He grabs his phone and calls her, frowning as it goes straight to voicemail.

She replies fifteen seconds after that, telling him that she's going out with Al for the night and he relaxes visibly as he continues with his work.

Xxx

His phone rings just as he's shrugging on his jacket, and he stretches his free hand out to grab it from his table. He smiles when he sees her name flashing on the screen.

"Hey baby," he answers easily, grabbing his sling-bag and stepping out of his cubicle.

"You need to come down here right now."

"Al?"

"Yeah yeah it's me. Listen, where are you?"

"I'm at the office," he answers with a frown, briskly walking towards the elevator.

"Are you leaving soon?"

"Yeah, I was just about to actually."

"Awesome, you need to get down here quickly."

"Where's 'here'? What happened? Is Rachel okay?"

"Well you know that karaoke bar we went to last week?"

"You took her to Chinatown?" he asks incredulously.

"Excuse me," Al sniffs. "I did not take her anywhere. She was the one who cut my day of luxury short to drag me to this singing marathon. Of which, you need to get down here. She's been hogging the mike for like, an hour now. There's a drag queen who looks like Lady Gaga, if she were a hundred pounds overweight, that's been waiting on the side for the last forty five minutes, and the man does _not_ look happy."

"I'm coming. Just make sure nothing happens to her, okay?"

"Yeah well, I'll try."

xxx

the first thing he sees when he pushes the pub door open is a three hundred pound man in drag, singing Born This Way and jiggling his hips like there's no tomorrow. A loud, familiar whoop catches his attention and the next thing he sees is Rachel, a few feet away, hanging precariously off her chair as she takes it upon herself to be said man's personal cheerleader. The only thing preventing her from falling headfirst to the floor is Al's vice grip on her arm. Al's looking partly bored and partly desperate and when he catches sight of Finn standing bewilderedly at the entrance, his expression changes immediately into one of relief.

"Finn!" He doesn't think he's ever heard his name being called out quite so gratefully. He makes his way to his obviously drunk girlfriend and her exasperated bestfriend. She's still screaming her head off for the dude on stage and Finn thinks she must be spurring him on or something, 'cause right after his song was done Madonna's Express Yourself comes up and the guy's back on stage, dancing in full force.

"What happened?" he yells over the sound of the music. Al shrugs helplessly, pulling him down and pushing Rachel against him as he stands.

"I'm not particularly sure. Somewhere between let's have fun and about ten jello shots, we didn't get around to talking much."

"_Ten_?" Finn asks incredulously. "You couldn't have held her off?"

"Excuse me," Al answers sourly, rolling his eyes as he shrugs on his coat. "Aren't you her boyfriend? When has anyone ever been able to stop Rachel Berry from doing whatever the hell she wanted?"

Good point.

It seems like Rachel's finally noticed who she's been leaning against as she looks up and shoots him an unfocused beam.

"Baaaby!" she exclaims, throwing her arms clumsily around his neck. Or at least she tried to. She smacked him in the head instead. Finn winced at the contact, keeping a firm grip around her waist as he pulls her closer.

"Well, now that you're here, I'm going to relay my babysitting duties to you. John and I were supposed to have dinner half an hour ago," Al says as he zips up his coat and slaps some dollar bills on the table.

"Sorry man," Finn apologizes. "Take your money, it's on me."

"You sure? McDrunk over there rang up quite a tab."

Finn sighs, trying to ignore her fingers which are currently making a trail just above the waistband of his pants. He nods at Al and waves as the smaller man makes his way to the door.

"Where's Allan going?" Rachel slurs.

"He has a date babe. What happened Rachel?" he asks, pulling away to look her in the eye. Her gaze is unfocused as he pulls her jaw up to face him. She stares up at him for the longest time, puzzled.

"Where?" she finally says.

"What?" he asks, confused.

"Who? What are we talkin' 'bout? Why're you looking at me like that Finny?"

"Like what?" he asks gently as the final melodies of Madonna plays out and momentary silence fills the air.

"Like I'm in trouble," she answers, pouting. She reaches her hands up towards his face, her soft fingers prodding his frown into a forced smile. She grins playfully up at him. "There. Thass better."

He laughs despite himself, gripping her a little tighter as she teeters slightly on the spot. If there's one thing he knows about a wasted Rachel, it's that she's never boring.

"Let's go home, 'kay?" he whispers in her ear. She giggles as his breath hits her skin, her fingers curling around his loosened tie.

"One more drink?" she asks innocently. He grins and shakes his head.

Xxx

"Baby you need to keep your arms around me," he tells her for the tenth time as she throws her arms up in the air. He keeps his hands hooked firmly around her thighs, leaning to the front to make sure that she doesn't fall off his back. Giving Rachel Berry a piggyback ride when she's drunk off her ass and won't stop moving is proving to be more difficult than he thought. He's starting to regret not hailing a cab and caving in to Rachel's plea for them to walk. Especially since she's not the one doing all the walking. He feels her leaning forwards, pressing herself against his back as she loops her arms tightly around him.

"There aren't any stars here," she says sadly in his ear.

"It's New York City, Rach," he answers, attempting to adjust into a more comfortable position. She keeps quiet for a few seconds, breathing softly against the back of his neck.

"I know," she whispers. He frowns at the tone of her voice, wishing that he could turn his head to look at her, but the way she's leaning her head against his shoulder is making it impossible.

"What's wrong?" he asks gently.

"I miss home," she mumbles.

"Lima?"

"You could always see the stars there."

"Yeah," he agrees carefully. Something's wrong. He just knows it. "But I've got my brightest star right here."

"Where?" she asks, and her arms leave their position again as she pulls away to look up at the sky.

"Arms Rachel," he says quickly. She grumbles but obliges, curling her arms back around him. "On my back, silly."

"What? Oh. Really?" she asks quietly, uncertain.

"Duh," he answers lightly, jostling her in a joking manner. He feels her tighten her arms around him, her legs curling themselves around his waist in a tight embrace. He doesn't know what happened, but he thinks he helped. He hopes he did.

"Finn?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I lost my shoes."

Xxx

She's giggling as he helps her wriggle out of her top, her right hand grabbing his tie to pull him on top of her once it's off.

"Let's do it," she whispers gleefully as he falls on top of her, quickly placing his palms on the mattress so he doesn't crush her. She winds his tie around her fingers as she grins up at him. He laughs as their foreheads touch and shakes his head.

"Not tonight baby."

"Why not?" she asks, pouting. He grabs her sweatshirt off the bed and pulls it over her head while she stubbornly refuses to let it go through.

"Rachel," he says, laughing as she pushes her body down on the bed, making it hard for him to slide the material down her body.

"C'mon Finny," she mumbles, her hands gently pulling his shirt out of his pants. "I wanna do it."

"No you don't," he answers, amused. "You're too plastered."

"Why don't you wanna do it with meee?" she whines, frowning.

"Because you're too drunk, and I'm too not drunk. S'not gonna be fun babe."

"S'always fun," she mumbles. That _is_ true. But still, his mom taught him better than that. "Is it 'cause I'm not pretty?"

"What? Now you're just being stupid," he tells her reasonably, looking down at her forlorn expression.

"It's 'cause of my nose, isn't it. You think I'm ugly."

"Rachel, I think you're beautiful," he tells her seriously.

"You're lying," she mumbles. "Don't lie to me!"

What the _hell_ is going on?

"I'm not lying! I think you're the prettiest girl I know."

"Prettier than Quinn?" she asks, looking up at him and scrunching her nose doubtfully. She's blinking up at him, wide eyed and unfocused at the same time.

"Way prettier."

"Prettier than Santana?"

"Duh."

"Prettier than Mary Beth Stevenson?"

_Even when she's drunk, she remembers that name _he thinks, shaking his head.

"You're the prettiest," he promises as she slowly relents and allows him to pull her shirt down.

"Prettier than that girl who's gonna play Evita?"

Oh.

"You didn't get the part?" he asks quietly, looking down at her. She shakes her head, her big brown eyes filling up with tears.

"They said I didn't have the right look."

Those fuckers.

"They're idiots. You have the right look for everything," he tells her confidently.

"Really?"

"Totally. And that girl's gonna look like a sack of peanuts if she ever stands next to you."

That doesn't make any sense, but she's drunk enough that she beams up at him anyway, so who cares?

"You're my Finny," she tells him seriously, tugging at his arms until he lies back on top of her. "You're _mine_," she repeats firmly.

"All yours," he promises, grinning.

"Good," she answers, before giving way to a loud yawn.

"Go to sleep baby," he tells her, kissing her forehead.

" 'Kay. Hey Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"I like your face," she tells him sleepily as she closes her eyes.

Xxx

It's ten in the morning and she's drooling on her pillow. He grins. If she still had her Polaroid, this would have made an epic picture. He hears Al and John bustling in the kitchen outside, taking turns singing Sinatra to one another. He watches as she blinks rapidly before her eyes slowly open. Rachel groans, one hand immediately clutching the side of her head.

"Good morning," he greets in a sing-song voice. She turns to look at him and frowns.

"My head hurts," she mumbles pathetically.

"I know," he answers, amused, as he gets up off the bed to reach for the glass of water on the bedside table. "Here you go."

"What happened?" she asks after downing the whole glass.

"Ten jello shots happened," he answered nonchalantly.

"Oh _no_," she moans.

"Yep. You're suffering through a classic case of hangover."

"Ugh," she groans. "I'm never drinking again."

"That's what you said the last time. And the time before that."

"I mean it this time."

"Of course you do," he says obligingly. She stares glumly back at him and he wonders if she remembers anything from last night. Even if she doesn't, she'll probably remember everything about that stupid audition. He smiles at her as he leans over to kiss her cheek.

"I think there's Gatorade in the fridge. I'll go look okay?"

"Thanks Finn," she answers gratefully, smiling at him. He feels her eyes following him as he takes those seven steps that lead towards the exit.

"Hey Rach?" he says as he reaches the door, his hand on the knob. He turns to find her staring expectantly at him.

"Yeah?"

"I like your face," he tells her, grinning at her perplexed expression as he slips quietly out the door.


	34. The word of your body

When they got together (And he means finally,_ finally_ together. Not that brief period when he was too fucked up to know what he wanted and she was too eager to care), Finn could spend hours at a time just thinking about her hands. And his. Their hands together. He didn't know if he was being weird or creepy. He guessed if he ever told Puck about it, the guy would probably call him a pansy-ass chick or some other thing along that line. But for the longest time, he was obsessed with her hands. They were small and dainty (She called herself that once. He looked it up and thought it was fitting). And ridiculously soft. When he held them, sometimes it felt like holding the hands of a child. It sounds wrong but he doesn't mean them the way it sounds. He just means that her hands are small, like a little kid's (He wonders if it's a sign that you're losing it when you start having to explain yourself to your subconscious).

He knew the chances are they really weren't all that small. And his weren't exactly ginormous. But the fact was, hers were just smaller than most and his were larger. And it was odd because you would think they wouldn't be such a perfect fit because of that, but when he held her hand it just felt like it was exactly how it's supposed to be. His fingers could cover her whole palm. He liked the feeling of that. Like he was able to hold all of her completely, safely. He thinks it's because he's clumsy. He doesn't like to hold things made out of glass because nine times out of ten he's going to drop them. So when his palm can cover hers whole, he figured there was no space for him to screw that up. For once, there was something that would be safe in his hands, something he wouldn't drop because hers were so small and his were so big. It was the perfect combination.

She likes to twine their fingers together. After a while it just becomes automatic. Their fingers just know where to go, never overlapping with one another, always side by side. She would squeeze their interlaced hands tightly whenever she gets excited about something. She squeezes them whenever she gets sad too. Like when they were watching this documentary on television about teenage pregnancy and this woman came on and talked about how much she regretted giving her daughter away. Her face was straight but he could tell she was upset by the death grip she had on his hand. He changed the channel and they spent the rest of the day watching the Spongebob marathon. On his father's birthday, he always gets a little depressed. He doesn't even know why, really. But the day always reminded him of his mother and the day that telegram came to their house and told them his father was never, ever coming back. When he told her this, she cried and kissed him. But the one thing that actually made him feel better about it was the feel of her hand squeezing the life out of his. He thinks that the hand squeezing is like their private version of the morse code. Like it was their private distress signal or something.

He likes to graze his thumb along the knuckle of hers when they hold hands. It has a calming effect on him. He likes to think it does the same for her too because he notices that when he does this when she's in one of her moods, her temper deflates a little. It was minuscule really. She would still be completely worked up. But he would see the tension lines along her eyes fade and the line of her lips would soften whenever he does it. So he does it a lot. Especially during glee.

Once when they were in his room, he had played with her right hand idly as she talked about her plans to get them to Nationals the next year. He likes to trace the patterns of her palm line, even though she always complains that it tickles. She never pulls away though, so he know she doesn't really mind. He was tracing one that goes all the way from the space between her thumb and forefinger to the bottom of her palm, near her wrist. "Your hands are cute" he had told her nonchalantly. She had stopped talking then and he looked up to see her smiling at him in amusement. "Cute?" She had asked. "Yeah. They're really small and pretty and mine can practically swallow them whole. It's perfect." Her smile was shy and he could see a reddish tinge coloring her face and making its way to the collar of her shirt. He wondered where it would stop, if maybe it would go on and on until her whole body was blushing. When he thinks about it now, he thinks that was the moment his obsession with her hands stopped, and his obsession with pretty much the rest of her body began.

Her lips are unreal. Her bottom lip is full and plump and her upper one is slightly thinner, but it would still graze against his perfectly and covers his whole. He thinks she would probably call them luscious if he ever asks. He never does because he's afraid he might sound just a little bit too obsessed. He thought a lot about her lips after he kissed her the first time. They covered his fully unlike Quinn's which were smaller and thinner and never seemed to feel as right against his as hers do. He thinks her lips are kind of like pillows. They're soft and comfortable and just warm enough to make him always, _always_ want to come back. He wishes he's better at words and at sounding poetic, because he doesn't think she would appreciate it if she knew he compares her lips to pillows.

They're soft and pink and sometimes he can feel his whole body tingling when he stares at them for too long. She bites them when she's nervous and the sight of her slightly wet lips always remind him of their kisses and the way her lips would would part open a little before it meets his. He loves to touch them when they're alone in his room (or hers) and they're both lying on the bed. He likes to brush his fingers slowly against them, his digits barely making contact with her lips. Her lips would always part slightly against his hand and he would be able to feel her hot breath against them. He thinks maybe the reason why he loves it so much is because she always seem to be holding her breath when he does this, her entire body taut and frozen and her exhales coming in short and stunted pants.

Also maybe because it always ends with his body pressing into hers, his hands under her shirt and hers fisted desperately in his hair trying to pull him in closer. That's pretty much impossible unless he actually finds a way for his whole body to be completely inside of hers. Sometimes he thinks it would be kind of awesome if that was possible. He doesn't tell her this because it sounds like something that might freak her out. Occasionally, it freaks him out too.

His heart always hammers against his chest by the time his hands find their way onto her skin. There were times when he needed to stop and take a breath because he really thought he might pass out. When things reach this stage, it was usually time for him to summon the mailman. But she doesn't care about that so that takes at least a little bit of the pressure off him. He thinks she actually likes it, the fact that he would fall apart so completely because of her. Things get a little bit easier after a while. The mailman's appearances starts to dwindle down.

Her waist is tiny, just like the rest of her and when he splays his hand over her stomach, the tips of his fingers will skim the underside of her bra. He could feel her stomach falling in when this happens and the blush he used to wonder about will make their way all over her waist, her body becoming hot against his touch. He used to position his body carefully over hers. He didn't allow himself to put his whole weight on her because she was a midget and he was a giant, and he was afraid of suffocating her with his huge frame. One day, she had pulled him abruptly down by his arms and taken off-guard, he fell on top of her hard. She had grunted at the weight but it didn't seem to phase her at all. Her arms had snaked their away around his body and she had pulled him against her tighter, more of his body bearing down on hers, as her lips crashed almost violently against his. He stopped being so careful after that.

Her neck is another obsession. He never used to think necks were something anyone would marvel over. He thought its only purpose was to hold up your head, to help with the movement of your skull. It didn't take him long to figure out she didn't share his opinion. It didn't take long for her to change his mind either. The first time they ever made out was three weeks after Regionals. He had went over to her house to watch a movie and her fathers were out of town. The truth was that he had been feeling antsy for the past two weeks, trying to take it as slow as she wanted it to be. She never said anything, but he figured since all they do is kiss and hug and hold hands that maybe that was all she wanted. Thirty minutes into whatever movie they were watching (he honestly could not remember a thing prior to them being all over each other), he found himself being straddled on the couch, her hands roughly fisting against his pullover.

The first time she kissed his neck, his whole body had shivered and the mailman came screaming into his brain. She had pulled back when he pretty much froze, a questioning look on her face. "Did I do something wrong?" she had asked softly and he had a hard time trying to tell her that the problem was she did something right. He encountered a newfound love and appreciation for necks that night. She has a small mole on the base of her neck that he likes to kiss. He finds the sound she makes when he breathes over her pulse point to be the most fascinating melody he has ever heard.

There is a word she taught him once, when she was trying to choreograph a routine for their duet. Sensual. She said their moves and the way they looked at each other should be sensual. He had looked blankly at her, unable to comprehend. He knew sense. He knew sexual. But what the heck was sensual? She looked momentarily taken aback when he tells her this, before her expression gave way to a slightly amused smile. "It's like something that heightens your senses," she explained, her hand absentmindedly waving at the air around her as she tried to find the words that would perfectly describe what she meant. "Something that will lure the audience in, give them some sort gratification so they would be interested to see more".

It had taken him about a minute to realize she wanted them to get the audience turned on. He felt himself turning red then, uncomfortable at the thought of anybody watching the both of them getting it on on stage. When he tells her this, she had rolled her eyes and giggled. "We won't be 'getting it on' on stage. That's not what I meant. We would just be... teasing them, for a lack of a better word. We want them to be interested Finn. Get them maybe a little hot and bothered". It's a good thing, she had assured him. "It'll show them we've got chemistry". He wasn't sure he wanted the audience to know they've got chemistry. He knew it, she knew it and he thought that should really be enough.

When he came home that night, he had looked up the word sensual in the dictionary, just in case he had misunderstood what she meant to say. Merriam-webster told him that it meant 'relating to or consisting in the gratification of the senses or the indulgence of appetite', so he looked up gratification. His first thougt was that there was no way they were going to be sensualising anything in front of a bunch of people. His second thought was that sensual was another word he is learning to describe Rachel Berry.


	35. Rebirth

She just wanted to talk. Honestly. When she stepped on that plane to get to him, all she had wanted to do was talk. She wanted to ask him everything. The what, the how, the why. She wanted him to explain every single detail. Rachel had been in a daze the whole day after his drunken phone call, two separate entities of her subconscious warring against each other. The rational part of herself told her to not be a fool, that if he really meant what he said, he would come groveling at her feet, begging her to take him back. But the other part of herself, the part still irrevocably attached to him, had argued that she was a strong, independent woman. Why did she feel the need to restrict herself in such a medieval manner and wait for the man to make the move?

When Al visited the day after that to find her still in her pajamas at noon and the dark rings around her eyes, he had forced the truth out of her. _Go_, he urged. _Don't let your pride get in the way of being happy Rachel Berry._ And if there was one person whose judgement she trusted, it was that of her bestfriend. And that was how she found herself on the first flight out to get to him, the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach morphing into huge, clawing mutants the closer she got.

His R.A. had let her in, recognizing her from Little Shop of Horrors which he had been dragged to on a visit to see his girlfriend.

"You're the girl that got eaten by that huge-ass mutant plant!" he said excitedly, after she had stopped him to ask if he knew who Finn Hudson was. "That was a tough break. You were hot."

"Thank you very much," she answered, smiling at him sweetly. It was her very first fan encounter and she was determined to be gracious, even if all she really wanted was to see Finn as soon as possible. He had shown her to Finn's room and when they both realized he wasn't in, had proceeded to unlock the door for her with his spare key. Eternally grateful, she had thanked him profusely until he waved her off in embarrassment.

She made a beeline for his side of the room, knowing immediately which one it was because it was the messy side. Rachel sat on the bed and waited. And waited some more. After almost half an hour, she began to feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was a bad idea. Maybe it was a very, very bad idea. Maybe she should just leave soon and put everything behind her and just go along her merry way (Except that the way was so not merry).

She looked up from the stripes of his bedsheet and her eye caught something on his desk. It was pinned on the board, hidden underneath layers of class schedules, pizza coupons and college ads. But she could see the the edge of what looked like a photo peeking out. As if without any conscious thought, she had immediately stood up and curiously walked over to his desk to get a better look. Her hand stalled for a few second as it dawned on her that she could suddenly come face to face with Mary-Beth Stevenson and wouldn't be able to be held accountable if that photo ended up on the floor, torn to shreds. Closing her eyes tightly, she had pulled back the rest of the papers. Rachel blinked open her left eye slowly.

Her hand shook as she realized that she was staring back into her own eyes. They were shining happily. Her lips were stretched open in laughter and her hair was all over her face. Rachel could remember clearly the morning this photo was taken. It was the weekend after their second 'Temporary Purgotary' where he had driven for hours to New York City in his almost dying, brand new, second-hand car. And it had been the most wonderful weekend that she could ever remember because it was two whole days of being alone with him after months of not seeing each other, and it was two days of just being together and being happy.

_The morning he was supposed to head back to college, she had woken up at five in a glum state and stared at his sleeping figure for an hour, wondering how long it would be this time before they could be together again. She sighed when he had turned on his back, his arm vacating its position on her torso. She laid her head on his chest, turning it to the side so that her ear would be right next to the sound of his heartbeat and promptly fell back to sleep. She had blinked her eyes open hours later at the sound of his chuckle to find her polaroid in her face and his crooked grin plastered on his as he snapped a photo of her bleary expression. _

_"__**Finn**__!" she had whined when she realized what was happening and immediately pulled the comforter up over her face. She could hear his laughter as he tried to tug it away. She held on stubbornly. She felt a little dissapointed when she couldn't feel his weight on the mattress anymore and almost peeked out of the covers. But suddenly, he was burrowing his way under the comforter from his side of the bed. He grinned mischievously at her._

_"Good morning," he greeted softly, as his face and body loomed over hers underneath the sheets._

_"That wasn't a very nice way to wake up," she said, pretending to pout._

_"I'm just helping you get ready for the celebrity life Rach," he teased. She grinned and propped her head up to kiss him. She didn't realize he was still holding the stupid camera until she heard the click of the polaroid. _

_"Finn!" His laughter shook the bed as he crowed in satisfaction and pushed the sheets away from them. "I can't believe you just did that," she complained. "I look stupid."_

_"No you don't. You look great. See?" He pointed to a dozen pictures of her sleeping figure strewn all over the bed. Rachel rolled her eyes, picking them up to see. They weren't that bad. She looked almost peaceful when she slept. Still. Finn was looking at his masterpieces proudly, the polaroid dangling in his right hand. Siezing her chance, she had swiped the camera away from his idle fingers._

_"Hey!" he yelped, startled. She quickly snapped the photo. An image of Finn with a surprised expression on his face developed. She shook the picture and dangled it in front of him._

_"Hah!"_

_"Now __**that**__ is a stupid look," he commented dryly before he pounced on her, trying to steal the camera back. She held on to it resolutely, turning her body to protect it away from his prying hands. Until his fingers began to tickle her ribs._

_"No!" she squealed as she succumbed to a fit of the giggles, his fingers still roaming over all of her ticklish spots. "Truce!" she yelled between giggles. "Truce!" Her hold on the camera weaned and he reached for it, one hand still on her side before he promptly snapped her picture._

As she remembered how she felt that day, it was like an epiphany to realize that no, that kind of happiness couldn't happen with just anyone.

He still had her picture in his room. What did that mean? She decided to take it as a sign that she should stay. Looking behind her covertly, she continued her investigation on his things. There was a year between them and there was a lot she didn't know. Rachel was dissapointed to realize that the rest of the mess on his desk were just that. A mess. She rolled her eyes as she held up two crushed beer cans that had made their way on to the floor under his desk.

Five minutes later and she realized she was straightening up his room. Rachel quickly dropped the handful of stationary she was holding back on to the table. What in the world was she doing? They hadn't even seen each other and she was already cleaning up after him and muttering under her breath like a nagging wife. She looked nervously at the table that already looked halfway decent. Maybe she should mess it up again. But that would be stupid. She shook her head and decided to sit back down at the edge of his bed and just not move until he came back.

Ten minutes later, she fidgeted restlessly. He was taking_ forever_. Where was he anyway? It annoyed her to realize that once again, there she was, waiting around for Finn Hudson. Less than five seconds later, the door to his room seemed to burst open and she squealed in surprise as she heard a loud yell. '_I have a rape whistle!' _she prepared to scream. But she had looked up and her voice just seemed to have died somewhere in her throat.

Because Finn Hudson was standing in front of her, his mouth hung open in mid-scream. He looked like he just saw a ghost as his hands hung limply by his side. He was just right there. All 6'3 of him. Rachel stood up immediately, unsure of what to do or what to say. She must have stood up too quickly however, because she lost her balance right after and tripped on her feet. As she pitched forward, she couldn't help the wry thought that went through her head because there she was, falling over him. Just like always. Two strong hands caught her by the arms to steady her. They both seemed to be startled by the contact and jumped, her head colliding with his hard chest. She backed off immediately, feeling like an idiot.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to fall. I mean of course I didn't. Who means to fall, right? I mean I didn't mean to hit you with my head. I mean- Did I hurt you? I..." Her words trailed away as she realized she wasn't making any sense. He was still staring at her in bewilderment. He was probably wondering what she was doing in his room. She knew she needed to say something. But Rachel just couldn't seem to find her words. The only thing that was running through her brain at that moment was _It'sFinn!It'sFinn!It'sFinn!It'sFinn!, _making it hard for her to string together an actual coherent sentence. She looked away, trying to collect herself. She took a deep breath.

"I- I-" she stammered nervously. "Your R.A. let me in. Hank, was it? He was very nice and said that it was okay for me to wait here. You don't mind, do you? I apologize if it seems like I've broken in. I assure you that wasn't my intention. I-" What was she even _talking_ about? She took another deep breath and tried again.

"You called me, two days ago," she said slowly. "I don't really know what I'm doing here. It's just- you asked me to come, right?" She hoped to God he hadn't been drunk enough to forget their conversation. Some spark of recognition seemed to fill his eyes and she almost cried in relief. Finn was still standing in the doorway like a statue and things were getting awkward. Fast. His familiar scent seemed to attack her senses, making it even harder for her to think. She looked down at her hands.

"I feel like we have things to discuss, things that needed to be said. I believe you might be thinking the same thing also. Right? You told me you wanted me to come. So... here I am" She attempted a dazzling smile but it failed miserably when she saw his expression. Rachel could feel her hands starting to get clammy and that sinking feeling in her chest when she knew dissapoinment was coming. "I- you remember. Don't you?" The look on his face said it all. He looked so lost and confused by her words. It was the same look that was always plastered on his face when they were teenagers and he couldn't comprehend the things she said. Rachel felt her heart drop to the bottom of her feet.

He didn't remember. He didn't remember anything. She was _such_ a stupid fool. She could feel the tears prickling the back of her eyes and forced herself to push them away. She shook her head and looked at him in resolution.

"I'm sorry," she said curtly, holding her emotions in check. "You were drunk. Of course you didn't mean it. What was I thinking?" Happiness her _foot._ She didn't fly all the way to him to find happiness. She flew all the way to give him her heart and watch as he trampled on it all over again. "I'm going to kill Al," she muttered under her breath, momentarily forgetting that Finn was standing right in front of her. He still wasn't saying anything. Rachel could feel the anoyance build up inside her. The least he could do was _say _something. God she was an _idiot_!

"I apologize for barging into your life like this," she said, trying her best to keep her tone steady. She picked up her duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder as she moved towads the door. "I know you must think that I'm an idiot for coming over here after some drunken conversation you can't even remember. I'm leaving now and will be out of your life in five seconds. We'll just both try to forget this humiliating encounter ever happened." _Don'tcrydon'tcrydon'tcry_. She held her breath as she walked past him, trying to push the memory of his smell out of her head.

"_No_!" she heard him yell in a strangled voice and suddenly he was grabbing her shoulders and pulling her back inside. She looked up at him. The desperate expression on his face startled her, and Rachel allowed just a _smidgeon_ of hope to enter her heart. "I meant them," he said urgently, his death grip almost crushing her shoulders. Rachel winced painfully as he squeezed harder. "Every single word. I meant them."

"You don't even know what you said," she replied softly, her voice quivering.

"But you're here," was his quick reply, his eyes roaming crazily over her face. "So I must have said something right. Because whatever it is I said, you're here. You're _here_. Just because I can't remember," he said gently, his gaze burning into hers. "It doesn't mean they weren't true." She couldn't help the hope that was growing in her chest. She really couldn't. She looked up at him. He was staring at her in that way she had missed _so_ much, like he could never get enough of her. Where were they supposed to go from here?

He pulled her hard towards him and she gasped in surprise as she lost her balance. Rachel splayed her hands onto his chest to steady herself and found that she was trapped in his arms. His smell was intoxicating, the heat from his body driving her insane in a torturously good way.

When his lips had crashed onto hers, she held on to his shirt helplessly.

The kiss stole her breath away. Literally, she felt her breath hitch against her throat as he slanted his lips over hers and plunged his tongue into her mouth. She felt dizzy, like she could faint at any moment. It was wrong to let him. She _knew_. But it was so familiar and it felt so _good_ and there was a picture of _her_ on his board and all she wanted was to just let herself get lost in the feel of his touch.

It seemed like he wanted the same thing because he had picked her up easily and backed her into the door, effectively closing it. His weight pinned her to the wood and she moaned as she felt one hand slip under her shirt and splayed itself against her stomach, the heat burning her. They were moving fast. They were moving really, really fast. She pulled on his shirt, trying to pull him in even closer, wanting to feel every inch of his body close in on hers. His hand was squeezing against her side and she turned her head away to gasp in a lungful of air. His lips fell on her jaw as he peppered hot, open-mouthed kisses all over jaw and her ear and the nape of her neck. She moaned again when he nipped lightly at her pulse point. Her lips found a new home on his collarbone.

She felt him freeze as his hand fell from her waist. He pulled away. She looked up into his eyes, still in a daze, still caught up by the kiss. Finn was looking down at her in surprise, like he only then realized what he had just done. She could practically see the guilt settling in his eyes. Rachel felt a burning anger scorching her insides. He was not going to ruin this moment for them. Not this time. She grabbed the back of his head with one hand and glared at him.

"Don't you dare pull away," she whispered furiously as she pulled him down and crashed their lips together again.

They crashed on to his bed in a messy tangle of limbs and half-opened clothes. She clawed at his back desperately, pulling his shirt along. His hands left her body for a few seconds as he took off the offending garment. They returned to her waist and she felt her toes curl as he panted roughly against her ear, the hot air filling her senses and clouding her mind.

It was rough, and it was quick.

Rachel felt the hot tears spilling down her face as their bodies fell into place and held on to him as tightly as she possibly could.

She had rolled away from him when it was over, trying to get as far away from him as possible. Considering the size of his bed, she didn't get very far. Rachel could still feel his body barely touching hers, the heat inducing a fresh set of tears to spill out of her. She knew he was staring at her and she was painfully aware that they were both naked and that it was the worst possible situation to be in when a girl was trying to hide her soul.

They had been silent for almost twenty minutes. His stare was burning a hole in the back of her head. She wondered if it was as hard for him to keep his hands to himself as it was for her. She knew that in a stable and normal relationship, people talked things out first before jumping into bed together. She wondered if they had always been so dysfunctional.

"Rachel." The soft way he called her name twisted her heart and she wondered why it was that the only boy who could fix her battered heart was the same one who bruised it in the first place.

"There's a picture of me," she wispered, ignoring him as she pointed to his desk. "Over there. How long has it been there?" He shuffled on the bed and their elbows touched, sending a current of sparks flowing straight through her whole body.

"I-" he began awkwardly. "It's always been there. I never took it down." She forced her tears away. She was so _sick_ of them.

"Why?" She heard him inhale a lungful of air and waited for his answer.

"I couldn't. I tried. I just- I couldn't put you away. I didn't want to." Rachel felt the anger that was simmering below her skin push its way out onto the surface. She stood up abruptly and yanked her discarded shirt off the floor to put it back on. She turned to look for her underwear, trying to reign her emotions in. Where the hell was it?

"Rach," he called softly from the bed. Nobody else ever called her that. She never allowed anybody else to call her that. It made her livid to hear it come out of his mouth and to realize just how much she had missed it. From the corner of her eye, she saw him sit up. Rachel ignored him as she spied her underwear sitting primly on his roommate's pillow. She stalked over to snatch it up, feeling apologetic towards Tom who would probably be disgusted to know he would be resting his head on where her panties had been carelessly thrown.

"Rachel would you _look_ at me. Please?" She complied and looked at him, her hands on her hips. He was staring back at her solemnly, almost as if he was afraid of how she would react. He should be.

"You couldn't?" she asked quietly. Finn shook his head.

"No." That was all she needed. Calmly, she walked towards him and sat on his bed. Raising her right hand, she slapped him with all of the strength she could muster.

It surprised her that he didn't even flinch.

"You _couldn't_?" she asked furiously. "You _dumped _me and you couldn't bring yourself to take my picture down?" Rachel knew that tears were streaming down her face but she couldn't be bothered to wipe them away. Why was he so _stupid_? "What did you think it would be _easy_ for me? Did you think it would be easy for me to _forget _you?"

"I-"

"_No_. I'm not done. You left me Finn. You _left_ me. It doesn't matter if you thought it was for the best. How could you leave me? You promised forever. Remember? Were those just _words _to you?"

"_No_." She ignored his firm tone.

"Did you think you were so easy to forget?" she asked, her tone coming off as a yell. "That if you left me, I could just pick myself up and be fine? How could you be so _thoughtless_?" She was outright sobbing by then, her hands in fists as she punched him in the chest over and over.

She wanted him to _hurt_. She wanted him to physically _hurt_.

"_God_! You're such a _jerk_! You could keep on loving me but I couldn't do the same? You can keep my pictures and you can keep my heart but I had to give _yours_ back? What the hell were you thinking?"

Her punches were getting weak and pathetic and he had grabbed her hands roughly and pulled her against him. She fought against him and tried to pull away but she knew that it was pointless. She _wanted _his arms around her. She was _pathetic_. He held her tightly as she cried, one of his hands repeatedly smoothing down her hair. He had tucked her head under his. Her ears were pressed against his chest and she listened as his heart seemed to beat irregularly. They must have stayed in that position for hours. Or maybe it was just minutes. She couldn't tell. As her sobs died down and turned into small hiccups, she felt his jaw move against her head.

"I thought I couldn't make it," he whispered. She felt his words reverberate against her skull. "I thought I couldn't get to New York. It felt like I was going to be stuck in Lima forever." His hold on her had loosened and it gave her room to punch his chest again. Hard.

"How many times do I have to tell you that you will?" she asked angrily.

"But what if I don't? What if I really couldn't? What if I failed?"

"I-"

"What's your biggest dream Rachel?" he asked softly.

"I-"

"It's Broadway," he said softly, tightening his hold around her. "It's singing and acting and being a performer. It's what you've always wanted. And I thought I couldn't make it. I thought I couldn't follow you."

"So you decided it would be better to just break my heart and get it over with? Better mine than yours, right?" she asked sarcastically, squirming angrily in his embrace.

"What would you have done Rach?" he asked, ignoring her jab.

"I wouldn't have stomped on your heart," she answered obstinately, wrapping her arms around herself. "I _loved_ you. So much that it _hurt_. Did you really think so little of me? Did you really think I would just go chase after my dream without so much as a backward glance? Am I really that _selfish_?"

"No."

"Then what were you trying to do Finn?" she asked impatiently, finally breaking away from his embrace. She turned around to face him, her eyes flashing. His calmness infuriated her.

"You're not. That's the whole point."

"_What's _the whole point?" He looked away from her and sighed, running his hand through his disheveled hair.

"I knew how much you loved me. I knew you would have done anything for me. And I was so afraid of not being good enough for you. I didn't want you to be stuck with me because you loved me. Because that's what would have happened Rachel. If I failed to make something out of myself, I knew you wouldn't leave. If you had to choose between me and your dreams, I- I didn't want you to make the wrong choice." She stood at the edge of his bed, her body shaking with fury and frustration because his misguided attempt to be noble had came at their expense.

"So you _made _it for me? Thank you _so_ much Finn for making such an incredibly hard decision about _my_ life for me. Should I be eternally grateful? Bow down to you in gratitude?"

"I'm sorry! But I just- Rachel I thought about it and just the thought- I couldn't _live_ with myself." His expression was so earnest and open and she knew he was telling the truth. It didn't stop her from wanting to wipe it off his face.

"You can dress it up however beautifully you want to Finn. In the end it all came down to just you being a huge coward and breaking my heart." Her voice broke at the last word and he had immediately left the bed to get to her. He enveloped her in a bear hug and she knew she was two seconds away from another breakdown.

"I know," he mumbled against her hair. "I _know_. I fucked up Rachel. I thought it was for the best and then I realized that my life without you just really, really _sucked_. But it was too late. And you found someone else. And I-"

"I d-d-didn't find someone else," she muttered through her hiccups. "I found a distraction."

"I couldn't go back Rachel. Not until I changed. Don't you get it? I was stuck. I was in this place where I felt like I was going to be a loser for the rest of my life. And I _couldn't_ go back to you. Not until I got out of that rut. Because then things will just end up being the same. I needed to fix _me_ before I could be with you. I needed to know that I could be better. I needed to be someone who didn't feel like such a dick most of the time. I needed to _be _someone "

"You've always been someone to me," she said hoarsely.

"I know," he said, kissing the top of her head. "I needed to make sure you weren't mistaken."

"And did you?" she asked curiously.

"I- Yeah," he answered, his voice registering surprise. "Yeah. I think I did."

"I hate you," she said quietly, as she finally moved her arms from her sides to snake around his waist. She pulled him tighter against her, her tears soaking up the fabric of his shirt. "I _hate _you. I hate you so much."

He whispered _I'm sorry_, over and over against her hair, his grip around her vice-like. And she _hated_ the feeling that washed over her. Like she was finally home.

XXX

They spent probably another two hours with her taking out all of her frustrations on him physically. She slapped, punched, kicked and yelled to best of her ability. It was a wonder how no one had knocked on his door to ask what was wrong. He let her do whatever she wanted, saying that she could hit him all she wanted to, just as long as she didn't leave. She had absolutely no intention of doing so. Their unconventional reunion was cut short when his roommate began knocking incessantly on his door, yelling for him to open the hell up.

He had groaned in frustration and moved towards the door. She checked her appearence to make sure she was presentable. Tom had whined the moment the door opened about Finn taking his fucking time but stopped when he saw her. His scrutiny made her uncomfortable. His appearance was rather alarming in Rachel's opinion. He had a scraggly beard and thick, round glasses. Actually, she couldn't really tell what he looked like. But she could tell he was surprised to see her.

"Hey. You're-"

"We're busy," Finn had cut in through gritted teeth. His face seemed to register some sort of realization because he had immediately walked in to retrieve his wallet and left, grinning at her and saluting the both of them.

"Does he know me?" she asked in bemusement.

"He's seen your photo."

"Oh." She wondered why he looked so uncomfortable.

He had driven her to the nearest motel to check in because in her haste to get to his dorm room, she had forgotten that she might need a place to stay. He stopped at Starbucks on the way to get them breakfast. He left the chainstore with an espresso in hand and her eyebrows went up all the way into her hair.

"Coffee?" she asked, half-amused and half-disbelieving. He shrugged as he took a sip.

"I don't sleep well these days," he answered simply.

"Since when?" she asked incredulously. Finn was the heaviest sleeper she knew.

"Since about a year ago," was his short answer.

"Oh."

"Yeah. The coffee helps me focus. Weird, right? I mostly drink it when I study. But I didn't sleep at all yesterday so I need this if we don't want to end up crashing into a tree."

"I barely know you anymore," she said, shaking her head. He used to gag at even the smell of coffee. She felt panic rise within her at the thought of them being strangers and not knowing who the other person was. But he had rested a hand on hers and when she looked up, had given her one of his reassuring smiles and she knew he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"It's just coffee," he said softly. Rachel felt herself relax and leaned back in her seat. She fell asleep along the way and was startled to see him when he shook her awake, the events from the hours before still missing from her brain. He helped her settle in and got her to the front door. She grabbed his wrist as he turned to leave.

"Wait." She needed to know. "The flowers, those stargazers. It was you, wasn't it." He looked at her bashfully and smiled.

"They reminded me of you."

"I knew it," she whispered, letting go of his hand. They stood awkwardly in front of each other and she wondered if he was about to kiss her. He didn't. His face turned red and he had muttered a _See you_ and turned to leave. Rachel snorted as she closed the door. Since when were they teenagers again?

He came back eight hours later, freshly showered and bearing food. He swooped down to kiss her the moment she opened the door and took her by surprise.

"I forgot this earlier," he mumbled against her lips. His bag of Chinese take-out fell to the floor as she pulled him in and it laid there forgotten until hours later.

XXX

She was supposed to return to New York two days later. On the day itself, she had woken up in a cranky state, wondering just why in the heck had she bought such an early flight in the first place. He wasn't there. They didn't do sleepovers. Her bag was already packed and so she really had nothing to do for the next three hours.

She was ready two hours before she was supposed to be. Which was a good thing because he came by two hours before he was supposed to. He took her to breakfast at his favorite diner. Apparently, the feeling was mutual because every waitress there knew his name. They knew hers too. They had squealed the moment he told them who she was. She wasn't expecting that.

It was as they were driving towards the airport when he suddenly drove towards the shoulder of the road and stopped the car.

"Stay," he pleaded as he held her hand. She had looked at him in surprise.

"But my flight is today," she answered stupidly.

"Miss it."

"But I-"

"I'm almost done packing," he said urgently. "Just another week and we'll drive down to New York. Together." Her heart was beating wildly against her chest. They agreed to take it slow. It didn't seem like they were doing a good job at it thus far.

"I can't keep sleeping in that motel. I don't exactly have the budget for that."

"Tom's leaving tomorrow. He's going on some trip with his hippie friends. I can make him leave tonight if you'll just say yes. C'mon Rach," he pled softly. "Say yes." She looked at him then, her gaze searching his features. He was staring at her hopefully, his eyes wide and pleading. The smile grew on her face before she could stop herself. She could see him relax as it turned into a full blown beam.

"Yes."

XXX

He has a copy of Funny Girl. Right in between Speed and Die Hard 4.0. Finn had turned the car around and taken her back to his dorm immediately the moment she agreed to stay. She found it as she rifled through the small shelf next to his bed while he was in the bathroom. Rachel held it up when he walked in, trying her best to keep a straight face.

"Funny Girl?" she asked. His face turned red and he laughed ruefully.

"Found it at Blockbuster a month after we broke up," he answered, sitting down next to her on the bed.

"I thought you said the movie was depressing. "

"It is. But it reminded me of you. At least it was something, you know?" She grinned at his embarrassed smile and kissed his cheek softly.

"How many times did you watch it?"

"Fifty seven," he said without missing a beat. She stared at him in surprise. "Yeah. Me too," he said wryly at the dumbfounded look on her face.

XXX

He told her she could have Tom's bed. Because they were taking things slow. He had washed a sheet for her and helped her set up the bed. He gave her his pillow. The first night had been weird because she was painfully aware of his body in the same room as her in the dark. The second night, Rachel decided she was done taking things slow. She crept silently in the darkness, counting the steps to his bed and slipped next to him quietly. She felt him jump as her weight moved the mattress.

"Who's Mary-Beth Stevenson?" she asked in a whisper, wrapping one arm over his torso. His back was facing her. She brushed her face against his shoulder blade.

"She was a junior," he answered, his voice amused. "A very _eager_ junior."

"And was she really all that hot?"

"Oh yeah." Rachel tightened her arm around his waist in annoyance and huffed.

"Well _did_ you get lucky?"

"Are you jealous?"

"Are you avoiding the question?" He chuckled and wrapped a hand around her wrist.

"I could have."

"Did you?" He turned to face her and scooted down until she felt his breath on her cheeks.

"No." Rachel smiled and leaned forward to catch his lips.

"Good."

XXX

Five days later, she was helping him clear out his drawer. Finn was on the floor, taping up all of his boxes. She was on her second trashbag as she grabbed a handful of paper and threw it into the black plastic bag. She almost missed it. Her eye caught the familiar looking sheet as she grabbed at it. She almost dropped the trashbag when she realized it was the program for West Side Story. She picked it up gently and read the words she had so carefully printed on the cover.

_To my biggest and best fan in the whole world._

_Love,_

_Rachel Barbara Berry_

The lipstick mark she had jokingly left on top of her gold star was fading. She gripped the program tightly in her hand, tears welling up in her eyes.

"What's this?" she asked softly.

"Huh?" he asked distractedly from the floor.

"This." He looked up and there was a second where his face seemed to register panic. But it quickly faded away as he stood up and walked over towards her.

"You weren't supposed to see that," he said ruefully, taking it away from her hand.

"This was for you?"

"I made him do it. I should have been there. But I wasn't. So.."

"So you had Al pretend to get my autograph instead?"

"I needed something to remember the role that's going to catapult you into stardom," he answered, only half-teasing.

"He recorded that show. It was-"

"For me, yeah. From the front row, center stage. It was the next best thing. He's a cool dude."

"Very cool," she agreed, smiling as the tears leaked out of her eyes. He brushed them away with the pad of his thumb as he stared at her with that perpetual, loving expression on his face. It was like they passed through some sort of new phase. She felt it acutely. She looked up at him, every bone in her body telling her that she was ready, that it was the right moment.

"I love you." The exultant smile on his face almost killed her erratic heart.

"I love you too," he replied softly as he cupped her face in his hand and leaned down to kiss her sweetly on her lips. They both stayed that way for a moment, lips touching softly, before he moved his upwards to rest on her forehead. She closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of it.

"So," she began conversationally as he pulled back. "About that video. Care for another showing? You know, to make an in-depth analysis?" His laughter filled her heart with unbridled joy. It was the most beautiful sound Rachel had ever heard.

"You bet."


	36. Initiation rites

"It's perfect." She's sitting in front of their (her) vanity, holding her hand up and staring at the band around her finger. The stream of sunlight glints against the modest diamond on her ring. He's lying on their bed, his head propped up by the elbows. He grins at the giddy expression she wears in front of the mirror.

"It better be. That's rent for the next seven months," he quips. She rolls her eyes at him through the mirror and sticks out her tongue.

"Are you regretting your proposal Finn Hudson?" she asks teasingly.

"After all that hard work? No way." He burrows his body further into the mattress as he yawns. He's thankful that it's a Sunday because he sure as hell needs the extra sleep this morning.

"So I think we should do it next weekend. Both our schedules are clear and the sooner, the better," she says nonchalantly, still admiring the new ring on her finger as she brings it closer to her face, almost touching her nose. He stares at her in amusement.

"Eager, aren't we?" he says teasingly. "Can't wait to be tied down with me?"

"Haha," she retorts dryly "You know what I mean."

"No Rach, I don't. What should we do next weekend?"

"Honestly Finn," she huffs, turning around to face him. "How do you expect our parents to find out? Through a phone call?" He shifts uncomfortably on the bed, feeling the dread welling up in the pit of his stomach.

"Yes?" he asks hopefully.

"We'll do no such thing," she answers scornfully. "My parents will not find out that I'm betrothed to the love of my life through the telephone Finn. We're driving back to Lima next weekend to tell them. Yours too."

"Can't we just, I don't know, get married first?" he offers.

"I'm not even going to entertain that with an answer," she says witheringly. He turns his face into the pillow and groans.

"Your dad hates me," he mumbles through the cotton. He hears her snort.

"He doesn't hate you. Stop being so dramatic."

"Baby," he groans as he pulls his head up to look at her. "He calls me Hudson on a good day. At any other time, it's The Boy."

"It's a term of endearment."

"Yeah, it's endearing alright," he mutters sarcastically under his breath. "He's going to kill me Rachel."

"Don't be ridiculous. We've been together since we were sixteen and we've been living together for almost three years now. If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it when he found out that we've been sexually active."

"Ahh!" he yells, clapping his hands to his ears. He gives her a sour look before exclaiming "Never, ever, _ever_ talk about us having sex and your dad in the same sentence!" Rachel merely snorts as she leans forward on the small bench.

"Sometimes I think that you're still that sixteen year old boy I fell in love with," she says, shaking her head in amusement at his childish antic. "And not in a good way." He sticks out his tongue at her, his hands still clasped against his ears.

"Rachel I'm not kidding. Your dad thinks I'm beneath you or something, and if I tell him I want to _marry_ you?" He shakes his head profusely against the pillows. "I'll be burned alive."

"He just loves me too much. It's nothing against you."

"Yeah I know." She stands up and walks over to the edge of the bed, staring down at his state of despair in amusement.

"Do you really think he's going to kill you?" she asks, bowing her head slightly and looking up at him through her lashes.

"Yes." he grumbles, pouting.

"Well then," she says as she climbs onto the bed and crawls towards him. His head perks up in interest. She reaches him and positions her knees on either side of his waist, one hand splaying across his bare chest. The robe she's wearing parts in the middle and he gets a good view of her breasts. A very, _very_ good view. As she settles herself on his stomach, he places both hands on her waist, under the robe, to hold her steady. The grin on her face is absolutely wicked as she leans in closer.

"We better make the most of the time we have left," she whispers against his lips.

Xxx

"I think I'm going to puke," he mutters as they pull up in the Berry driveway.

"You won't," she answered reassuringly. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, his nails digging into his skin. She places one small hand over his, gently brushing her fingers soothingly over his knuckles. Finn stares intently at the ring around her finger, _his_ ring, trying to look for the strength to face her father. Out of all the people he's met in his life, Leroy Berry is the only one who still makes him feel like the dumb sixteen year old kid he was when they first met.

Xxx

_The first time Finn met Rachel's parents, he had his hands on her ass and his tongue down her throat. It was two days after the first time he found out that Rachel Berry's tongue was magic (Seriously. He could see stars when that tongue was in his mouth). Naturally, all of the next 48 hours of his life was spent thinking about Rachel and the fact that he had mde out with Rachel and how much he really, really, **really **wanted to make out with her some more._

_So when she had called him up on a Monday morning and asked him if he would like to spend the evening with her watching Rent, he had agreed almost immediately. When she told him her parents had a meeting that was going to run late into the night, he may or may not have done a little jig. He didn't even care that he had no idea what the heck Rent was about and that it was probably going to be another pansy-ass musical because all her movies were pansy-ass musicals. Because it was a pansy-ass musical they 'watched' two days before and it was during this pansy-ass musical that Finn had received the thrill of his young adult life, which was Rachel Berry's tongue in his mouth._

_He wasn't dissapointed. The movie wasn't all that bad, to be honest. At least, he assumed. He could have dug it he tried. He didn't have to though, because before they even heard the first song, he already had her giggling underneath him, begging for mercy in a tickle war. It took only a second for him to realize that he was lying on top of her and that his you-know-what and her you-know-what were totally pressed up together, which almost made him blow his you-know-what in the you-know-where. And she seemed to notice it to, because suddenly she wasn't laughing anymore and she was staring up at him with this intense look on her face that kind of made him want to kiss her senseless. So he did._

_So he had to summon the mailman a few times, she totally got it. They'd just stop for a few minutes and then start again after that and things just got better and better. By then, the only thing he knew about Rent was that some girl was called Mimi and she had AIDS or something. But he did find out that when he bit Rachel's neck (Just a gentle bite, not like a vampire bite or whatever), she would totally make this sound that turned him on like you wouldn't believe._

_They had been going at it for almost an hour, probably, and he had just worked up the courage to put his hands on her butt when it happened. He'd been thinking of touching her butt for months, because Rachel Berry's ass was unreal. It didn't help that she walked around school with those tiny skirts all the time (Although, that definitely helped sometimes in the middle of the night). But he wasn't sure if she would let him because Quinn used to slap his hands away every time he even tried to move them south. But when he had cautiously laid one hand on that amazing curve, all she had done was moan into his mouth and ran her hands over his chest. So he laid his other hand there. And that was when he heard the sound of clearing throat._

_Rachel froze in his arms like she turned to stone or something. He figured he was probably just as frozen, if not even more so. They stayed in their horrified positions for another five seconds before she seemed to regain her motor skills and jumped up off him from the couch._

_"D-dad, da-daddy," she had stammered, attempting to work a large smile on her face. All she had managed was a terrified grimace. He had melted himself further into the couch, wishing he wasn't so tall and that his legs weren't sticking out because that way, he could have pretended they never saw him. There was a minute of absolutely excruciating silence where he wished that lightning would strike him dead or something._

_"Tell the boy to go home," he heard one of her fathers say (Her dad, but he didn't now that yet)._

_She was grounded for a whole week. Which was one entire week of torture for him because it was seven days of remembering the feel of Rachel's butt under his hands and not being able to do anything about it. She had never been grounded before and was appalled when she realized it meant not seeing each other. At all. When she almost threw a fit at how ridiculous that was, he had soothingly told her that it was going to be okay, because if it was his mom that found them, just one week would have been a miracle._

_He didn't know it yet, but it was also the beginning of his life under the mental torture of her dad._

Xxx

They started with the easy parents. Finn had been adamant that they break the news to his mom first, saying that it might the last time his mother was going to see him alive. Rachel smacked his arm but indulged him anyway. By the time they reached the Hummel-Hudson household, it was already one in the afternoon and so it was in the middle of lunch that he had casually dropped the news.

"I asked Rachel to marry me," he said nonchalantly, before shoving a spoonful of mashed potatoes in his mouth. Rachel had kicked him under the table and sent him a glare before turning to smile at the surprised Carole Hummel.

"Finn's lack of finesse aside," she began, but Carole was already squealing happily and getting up to rush to the other side of the table and envelope them both in a bear hug, Finn almost choking on his potatoes as his mom strangled the life out of him with her arm. Carole cried, Burt broke out the champagne and it was all a very peachy affair. He knew there wasn't going to be a problem because his mom loved Rachel to pieces.

Yeah sure, when they were sixteen she had been a little alarmed and slightly concerned by Rachel's exuberance, but just like his son, she had learned to appreciate that about Rachel Berry, particularly after the change she could see in her son's grades. When she found out that Finn was going to college, she had made a special dinner just for his girlfriend to thank Rachel for taking Finn under her persistent and optimistic wings. Sometimes he thought his mom might just love his girlfriend (fiance) more than him. He would have felt insulted, but he figured it didn't hurt to have his mom love her almost as much as he does. Rachel certainly seemed to revel in all that motherly affection.

Then again, Rachel didn't seem to have a perpetual streak of bad luck when it came to meeting the parents.

Xxx

_The second time Finn Hudson met Leroy and Hiram Berry, it was to officially meet the parents. He felt more like the sacrificial goat being led to certain doom rather than a boyfriend trying get the approval of Rachel's fathers. He figured that had something to do with the way Leroy Berry stared at him as he walked through the door. He had let go of her hand immediately._

_"Daddy, dad," Rachel began excitedly, although he could hear the undercurrent of strain in her voice. "This is Finn," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards her. His body molded into hers and Finn had backed off faster than you could say "Whoa there!"._

_"Mr Berry," he nodded to her dad, hoping that it was a nice nod, a nod that said please-don't-kill-me-because-my-hand-was-on-your-daughter's-very-nice-ass. "Mr erm, Berry."_

_"Call me Hiram," her daddy said, not unkindly as he shook Finn's sweaty and shaking hand._

_"Leroy," her dad nodded. "Call me Mr Berry." Finn could practically feel the laser beams the man was shooting through his gaze._

_"Erm. Okay." The four of them stood there in front of the doorway awkwardly for a minute or so before Rachel began a nervous ramble about some musical or other as she practically dragged him towards the living room._

_From the moment the introductions were over, it had been a disaster. Finn had never been good with dads. He was okay with moms, but dads? Not so much. Quinn's dad didn't like him. Well, Quinn's mom didn't like him either but that wasn't the point. Most dads either ignore him or look at him like he was about to steal their daughters or something. He figured being around Puck so much kind of had something to do with it. That dude's reputation was wild and he had gotten caught in the crossfire once or twice. He wondered if Rachel's parents knew about that. From the way Leroy was giving him the icy glare like Finn had corrupted his kid, he probably had. Or it could just be that Finn did kind of corrupt his daughter. Even though that had totally been a mutual thing._

_The thing was, he was a large boy. So he bumps into things a lot. Like that lamp he broke in his haste to reach the couch. Apparently, it was a family heirloom. Rachel's eyes had been round as saucers when his arm had swiped that thing to the floor. He could hear her daddy's dramatic gasp like the echo of a gunshot. And the frown lines on her dad's face had gotten even deeper than he thought possible as the old man told him to not worry about it. Finn couldn't help thinking he wasn't being all that sincere though._

_Things were already crazy enough as it is without him pretty much setting himself up for failure when her daddy asked what his favorite subject was. He didn't mean to say lunch. It was just the first word that came to mind. But then Hiram and Rachel both started to laugh uncomfortably, trying to pass his little fluke of as a lame joke. Her dad didn't crack a smile._

_His armpits started sweating like he was in the pits of hell halfway through (which really wasn't that far off the mark), so then he kept walking in this really stiff way, trying not to move his arms so much so nobody could see his pit stains, which made Leroy look at him funny. By the end of the night, Finn was just glad it was over. They had sent him to the door, and even though Leroy was three inches shorter than him, Finn felt about four inches tall in front of the guy. Her daddy said that it was nice to meet him and Finn had smiled a little painfully at the man. He liked her daddy because Hiram was kind of like Rachel in a way, he had a warm smile and he was really friendly. Leroy just grunted a response when Finn said goodbye. _

_And then there was that two minutes of silence when he stepped out of the door and Rachel followed. Leroy had followed right behind her, as did Hiram. Finn had stood there like a dumbass, his hands in his pockets for the longest time before Hiram finally managed to drag his spouse inside._

_"That was horrible," he groaned, as they walked towards his car, the second he was sure they were out of ear-shot._

_"It wasn't that bad," she tried to say soothingly as she laced her fingers through his. Finn looked down at his girfriend and snorted._

_"Rachel. Your dad looked like he wanted to swallow me whole." She gave him a helpless smile as he leaned back against the door of his mom's car and sighed as he closed his eyes._

_"You're not going to break up with me are you?" she asked in a small voice. That made his eyes flew wide open. He stared down at her in confusion. Rachel had bowed her head, her hair falling over her face so he couldn't see her. He grabbed her jaw and gently forced her to look up._

_"I'm not breaking up with you because of **this** Rachel," he said incredulously. "I love you."_

_The smile on her face was just wide enough to make everything that had just happened okay. She stood on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss, and Finn thought that scary fathers were nothing if he could have her lips all to himself all the time._

Xxx

With the turn of the lock, Finn feels the pounding in his heart increasing in its vehemence. Rachel turns to smile encouragingly at him as she laces one hand in his and turns the knob with the other.

"I'm home!" she calls out and Finn can hear an indistinct squeal coming from the kitchen. Barely a minute later, Hiram Berry's small figure practically barrels into his daughter's as the both of them envelope each other in a hug while he looks on in amusement.

"Honey we weren't expecting you until dinner!" Hiram gushes as he pulls back to give his daughter the once over. The last time they saw each other was almost three months ago when in a fit of anger, Rachel's daddy had impulsively purchased a one-way plane ticket to New York City after an apparently explosive fight with his other half. He had stayed with them in their small, cramped apartment for three whole days before tearfully announcing one morning that he was going to return to Lima. Not that he didn't enjoy the company of her daddy, but Finn was definitely glad for it. Sex just wasn't the same with the knowledge that one of her parents was camping out in their living room. Hiram releases his hold on Rachel and turns to him, shaking his hand exuberantly.

"Finn honey, have you lost weight?" he asks in concern. Finn grins at him ruefully.

"I've been doing a lot of overtime these past few months," he answers, glancing meaningfully at Rachel. She beams right back.

"Of course,"Hiram answers. The smile on his face is a knowing one. "Well come on in. I'm still in the middle of preparing for tonight's dinner."

"Let me help you," Rachel offers as she links an arm around Hiram's and leans her head on his shoulder. The both of them are walking in front of him, chatting away merrily while Finn hangs back and looks around. The house is exactly the same as the last time he saw it. He grins as they walk past the hallway littered with framed photos of Rachel, posing with her various achievements. He walks towards the third photo from the left and grins. It's probably his favorite picture of her ever. Rachel at three years old, beaming proudly with her third place ribbon from her first Tiny Tots beauty pageant. There was a gash on her forehead, just slightly to the left, courtesy of a fall while she was performing on stage, with vague traces of dried blood still visible. But that didn't seem to phase the little girl at all, judging from the way she seemed to be showing off her teeth so happily.

Another photgraph catches his eye, a new one he's never seen before. It's Rachel at her graduation, with her degree in one hand, the ribbon on her graduation cap falling over her face. It would have been the perfect picture, but Rachel wasn't smiling at the right direction. Instead, she was grinning up at the boy next to her who had one arm around her shoulders, lips stretched in a proud smile as he stared into the camera. He wonders why that picture, out of the hundreds that had been taken on that day, is the one framed on the wall right now. He decides to take it as a good sign. He looks up to find both Rachel and Hiram gone and strides quickly towards the kitchen.

"Hiram?" he calls as he stands in the doorway, watching as father and daughter moves swiftly around each other in the kitchen. "Is Leroy home?" Both of them stop what they're doing to look at him and Finn catches the way her daddy's eyes stray towards the ring on her finger. Hiram looks up, and there's a faint smile playing on his lips.

"He's in his study," the older man answers airily. "He's been waiting for you." Finn nods, the nerves returning before he turns around and walks left, heading towards their study room.

"Good luck!" he hears the both of them call out in unison and grins. He can do this.

Xxx

_The summer they were apart, Finn was a mess. He had been a mess ever since the day he made the phone call and he had known that going back to Lima for the holidays was going to make things even worse. When he found out that she wasn't returning, he didn't know if he was relieved or thrown into a deeper state of misery. Finn spent the first week holed up in his room, barely leaving for meals and worrying his mom half to death. The thought that he had failed Rachel, failed himself, just refused to leave his mind and haunted his every waking moment. Two weeks later, after being given a stern talking to from his mom, Kurt and practically every other soul living in Lima, he finally found enough strength to leave the house._

_It was just a trip to the grocery store and his face bore the evidence of three day's worth of not shaving, but he was out nonetheless. Truthfully, he did it for his mom's peace of mind more than his own. The juvenile taunts of Lima loser still accompanied his every step as he slowly made his way through the store. It was at the aisle in between the cereal and the condiments that he bumped into them. Finn had bit back a groan when he saw the familiar backs of the two men. He was just about to back-pedal when Leroy had turned around and caught his gaze.** Well hell.** - there was no way he could ignore them at that point. Squaring his shoulders, Finn made his way slowly towards the two men who were now both staring at him. Maybe they'd take him outside to beat the living daylights out of him. It would definitely be less than what he deserved. He stood in front of them, one hand holding an empty basket and the other in his pocket, in silence._

_"Hi," he finally said, a little awkwardly as he stared at the 'Dairy' sign over Hiram's head._

_"Hello Finn," Hiram answered in a friendly tone as he grasped the boy's hand. Finn dared himself to look them both in the eye. Leroy gave a slight nod, his expression unreadable. But when had his expression ever been otherwise?_

_"How are you guys?' he asked. He stood awkwardly on one foot, leaning against the row of Frootloops and Cheerios._

_"We've been well," Hiram answered. "Leroy and I are just about to pick up some things for our Book Club meeting tomorrow. We're attempting to go through the complete works of the Bronte sisters."_

_"Oh," he answered stupidly. He wanted to know where Rachel was staying. He was dying to ask them how she was doing. But something seemed to stop those words from coming out of his mouth. Hiram made a sudden strangled noise and Finn watched in helpless surprise as tears seemed to fill the older man's eyes._

_"I'm sorry," Hiram muttered before he swiftly turned and headed for the exit, leaving Finn standing awkwardly next to Rachel's dad. He gawked helplessly at her daddy's retreating figure as an uncomfortable silence filled his atmosphere. Somehow he couldn't turn that extra inch to look into the face of the man next to him. He felt like they had been standing there in that position for years. He knew he shoudn't have left the safe haven of his bedroom._

_"They don't understand," Leroy finally said, breaking the silence._

_"Sorry?"_

_"We're the same, you and I. And people like Hiram and Rachel, they don't understand." Finn finally looked at him, and there was a new kind of softness in the man's eyes he had never been on the receiving end of before._

_"I-"_

_"They have courage. Not like us. Fearless people just don't understand people like us," the old man continued, smiling almost ruefully. Finn could only stare back stupidly, unsure of what he meant exactly and wondering if Leroy Berry had really just told him that they were the same or if it was just a bizarre dream._

_"She's living with her mother. See you around Finn," he continued, clapping Finn gently on the back before he turned and walked towards the cashier. Finn was in too much of a daze to realize that it was the first time her dad had ever called him by his name._

Xxx

He stops in front of the door and takes a deep breath. This is it. The moment he finds out once and for all whether Leroy Berry will ever accept him into the folds of his small family. After all these years, he knows well enough that all of the elder man's actions are driven mostly by his fierce need to protect the two people closest to his heart, his only family. That fact makes it easier for Finn to swallow the grim and distant reality of their relationship. He knows (or hopes), deep down, that he already has one foot in the metaphorical door. It's the going all the way part that's tricky. He raps respectfully against the door three times. A safe number of knocks. Too little, and the man might not hear him. Too much, and he might get annoyed. Three is pretty neutral.

"Come in Hudson." Finn turns the knob and steps inside, finding Rachel's dad sitting on an armchair, his head bent over the book in his hands. He stands awkwardly in the doorway for a few seconds before he opens his mouth.

"Hey Leroy," he greets. Leroy merely nods, acknowledging his presence. Finn is itching to ask how the man knew it was him.

"Nobody else in this house ever knocks. They just barge in and talk your ear off," Leroy says simply, finally looking up at him. Finn wonders if he really is that obvious or if Rachel's psychic tendencies had been passed on from _this _parent. He sits on the couch next to the armchair when Leroy gave him the greenlight.

'How are you?" he asks carefully.

"Fine," Leroy answers, finally looking up at him. There's a lighter shade of grey sprinkled across his head that wasn't there before. "It's been a slow week. Rachel told us about your possible promotion. How's that going?"

"As well as I can hope," Finn answers easily, glad that the older man is steering the conversation into a direction that will benefit him. "I'll find out this Monday."

"Good luck."

"Thank you."

"Where's Rachel?"

"She's helping Hiram out in the kitchen."

"And how's her play doing?"

"Really well actually. There are rumors that they might be debuting on Broadway in a year or so." Leroy nods and returns to his book.

This is the problem, Finn notices, when trying to make a conversation with Leroy Berry. You need to be the one constantly keeping it up, because he feels no need to shoulder that responsibility with you. It had led to many moments of blunder and floundering on his part, especially during the early stages of their relationship. Every time Rachel had left the two of them alone together, she would always return to find her boyfriend blushing like a fire hydrant and deep frown lines occupying her father's forehead. Thank God he learned to tamper down his awkwardness along the way until they've reached this stage of silent acknowledgement on Leroy's part and a deep-rooted respect on his. With Leroy Berry, it's easier if you just get to the point.

"I'm going to marry your daughter."

xxx

_His eyes opened slowly by degrees when he felt her jostling around on the mattress. Reaching his hand to his right and finding empty space, Finn looked around in confusion. He smiled when he found her sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, hunched over her lap top. Propping his head on one elbow, Finn stared at the way the morning sunlight fell over her body. He knew underneath that thin sheet she had wrapped around her, Rachel was wearing nothing. And the way the light outlined the contours of her figure made it easy for him to appreciate the good things in life._

_Whatever it was the she was looking at, it had her full attention. She didn't notice that he was awake, even as he slowly crawled over to where she was. Rachel squealed in surprise as he wrapped one arm over her torso, pulling her body flush against his._

_"Finn!" she reprimanded. "I almost dropped my lap top."_

_"I'll buy you a new one," he mumbled as he slipped one hand underneath the thin cotton, his fingers lightly stroking over the expanse of skin along her side. He smiled against her hair as she purred in content before pushing his roaming fingers away._

_"Stop distracting me," she said in annoyance. "I need to book our plane tickets."_

_"Why did Hiram's brother move all the way to Nashville again?" he asked, ignoring her order and grazing his fingers softly across her stomach instead._

_"Uncle Ira had wanted to try to break in to the country music scene- stop laughing!" she said exasperatedly, as his laughter shook both of their bodies. He knew she was smiling though, because her voice was light._

_"Sorry baby. That just never gets old."_

_"I'm glad my family entertains you so," she answered shortly, squirming against his firm hold. "Now let me go."_

_"Nuh-uh," he mumbled, pulling her even tighter against him._

_"**Finn**!" she whined._

_"**Rachel**." he replied in a mocking tone. "I'm missing a very important game to go to your cousin's wedding. Indulge me a little."_

_"How is some football game comparable to family?" she asked incredulously, as she tried to pry his arms away, but only half-heartedly._

_"It's comparable when your desk buddy has tickets to the playoffs and offered one to you. Do you want another hour long lecture on the importance and impact that good ole' football has had on the American way of life?"_

_"Fine," she huffed witheringly as she settled back into that familiar space against his body. He grinned. She was making it out like she wasn't enjoying it just as much as he did. She was such a bad liar. He bit the edge of her shoulder playfully as she let out another withering sigh and grinned when the giggle escaped her lips. She laced her fingers through his underneath the sheets and brought them up against her lips, brushing them over his knuckles. He felt the curve of her smile against them._

_"Baby?"_

_"Hmm?"_

_"Why don't we ever go to anything from your dad's side of the family?" He felt her froze against him and wondered if he had just ruined the moment._

_"Hey you don't have to say anything if you don't want to," he said when he felt her shoulders tense against his chest._

_"It's not that." she muttered softly. Finn buried his nose into the nape of her neck and nuzzled the space gently, taking in a deep breath of Rachel's shampoo. "Dad never goes to see his family. I don't know any of them." He felt her relax against him as she continued._

_"When I was eight, I asked daddy why that was, and he told me it was because he had very different views of how the world worked and that his family saw things differently. I didn't really know what he meant, but daddy told me to never ask questions like that anymore, so I never did after that."_

_"Was it because of-"_

_"I think so. What else would it be, right?" She sighed and he felt awful for asking the question in the first place._

_"I'm sorry for asking," he whispered against her ear, his warm breath fanning across her neck. Finn felt her slight shiver and tightened his hold around her._

_"That's okay. I just feel bad for dad sometimes. He must miss his family so much. It makes me sad to think about it."_

_"Well he has his own family now. And believe me baby, trying to wedge a way in between the three of you is **hard**. And I'll say he's pretty damned lucky to have you as his daughter."_

_"Thanks Finn." she said as she turned her head to smile at him. He swooped down for a kiss, slipping his tongue in for good measure. He still woke up in the morning sometimes forgetting that she was his again. Even after almost a year, the thought of that particular year still scared him, which was why he sometimes clung to her a little too tightly. She didn't seem to mind. Sometimes she did it too. She moaned as he deepened the kiss and Finn forgot all about their conversation as she turned in his arms and he laid them both down. _

Xxx

He didn't mean for it to come out like _that_. Finn freezes when those words slip out and Leroy finally looks him the eye, staring at him thoughtfully. He hadn't known exactly what he was going to say, but it had pretty much stayed within the regions of _asking_ instead of _stating _it like it's a fact_. _Not that it's not. It's definitely a true fact, or one in the making anyway. The longer he thinks about it (under the older man's persistent scrutiny, nonetheless), the more he realizes that those words really were supposed to come out the way it did.

Because let's face it, he's going to marry her either way. He hadn't come to ask for Leroy's permission, Finn finally realizes, he had come for the man's blessing. With or without it, a wedding is going to happen. He just really, _really_ prefers that it's a with. Finally, after what feels like decades, Leroy Berry moves in his chair.

"You know I'll never think you deserve my daughter?" _Ouch_. That was blunt. Finn meets his gaze gravely, wondering if the man could see it in his eyes that he _knows _he'll never truly deserve Rachel.

"I'm aware," he answers evenly. Leroy acknowledeges his answer with a barely perceptible nod before continuing.

"That being said, I'm fairly certain nobody else will ever be smart enough to love my daughter as much as you do, and she does seem immensely fond of you." Finn stares dumbly at him for almost five seconds as he turns his attention back to his book, before the realization and the relief that comes with it washes over him. He's got the blessing. And he didn't even have to try all that hard. Leroy likes him more than he let on, he figures, and almost bursts out laughing at the air of indifference that surrounds him.

"You know," he begins in a teasing tone, finding it easy to be around her dad for the first time in his life. "You could have just said "Okay". It's a much shorter answer." Leroy looks up once more, an unmistakable twinkle present in his eyes.

"Okay."

xxx

It took almost a year, three epic breakdowns for Rachel, five separate nights of sleeping on the couch for Finn, and seven different occasions of mind-blowing make up sex for them both, before the wedding finally happened.

And it was as they were walking towards their car (decorated within an inch of its life with cheesy little signs of "Just Married" and "Newlyweds" and strings of cans all over the bumper, courtesy of Tina's third grade class), and as they were saying goodbye to her parents, that Leroy had suddenly grabbed him in a side hug and said the four magic words.

"Welcome to the family."


	37. Punch Drunk Love

She clutches the sleeve of his Letterman a little tighter as they reach the threshold, the loud music straining against the door. She looks up to find him smiling down at her in amusement and frowns.

"Baby, chill. It's just a party."

"Yes. Santana's. I've never been to a party at Santana's before," she hisses, annoyed at his nonchalant attitude. She moves herself closer to him to let a group of girls pass by, and the swell of the music almost hurts her ears as the door opens. It's funny how a house can look so foreboding.

"Relax. You probably won't even see her anyway. She's probably passed out on the couch by now. I mean, Santana gets shitfaced-"

"Finn!"

"A _lot_. Sorry," he finishes , grinning. She hates those dimples sometimes, mostly because of their ability to turn her into a powerless mush of goo. She sighs, pushing them both towards the edge of the Lopez's porch, giving more room for the partygoers to walk through. She knows his patience is wearing thin by the way he's tapping his foot, but he's still smiling patiently at her, so she pushes on, fiddling with the buttons of his jacket as she mumbles.

"I just- you know these things make me feel uncomfortable. I mean, at least if Tina and Mercedes were here, I'll have someone to talk to, but they're not coming and Quinn still hates me, so who am I going to talk while you hang out with all your Neanderthal buddies? And what if you get drunk again?" she finishes sourly, remembering the last party they went to where he'd passed out on Noah's couch. She had to lie and told her parents she was sleeping over at Mercedes's (it really is a miracle how much they trust her sometimes) because she didn't want to leave him, knowing that Noah wouldn't even have the decency to help him to the spare bedroom if she hadn't so adamantly insisted on it.

"Not happening this time. Designated driver, remember?"

"Okay, but what if-"

"Rachel," he sighs, leaning against the deck as he grabs her shoulders. "You're with me, okay? I'm not gonna let you out of my sight, I swear. C'mon, we don't even have to stay long if you don't want to. It's just that it's the Championships, and we don't really get to celebrate all that much, you know?"

"I know," she says softly, leaning forwards to hug him as she feels his arms go around her waist. She pulls back, steeling herself as she beams up at him. "I'm sorry Finn. It's your night, and I'm not going to put a damper on it."

"Awesome," he answers, leaning down to kiss her.

"We're going to have fun," she whispers in conviction against his lips. He chuckles, straightening up as he throws an arm around her shoulders.

"Oh hey, I forgot to tell you."

"What?"

"You look really pretty tonight," he tells her, pulling her in closer. She smiles, looking down at the bright blue sundress she's paired with a jean jacket Al had sent for her birthday. She knows she's not dressed like the rest of the girls in there, knowing she's probably got a little too much fabric going on, but Finn likes her dress, and he's all that matters really. Rachel leans her body towards him as they make their way to the entrance. The door swings open, and she finds herself staring at black, five inch stiletto boots wrapped around smooth, perfect legs that seem to go on for miles until it reaches the tan colored fabric of her skin-tight dress.

"Oh look, the Giant made it. How nice, you brought your hobbit with you," Santana says dryly, looking up at Finn before her bored gaze falls on Rachel. Beside her, Finn rolls his eyes as he mutters a "hey", pulling her closer to him as he pulls her in.

Xxx

_It's actually not that bad_, she thinks as she nurses the can of Coke in her hand. She'd prefer if it came in a cup, but the only boy who tried to give her one had received a death glare from Finn, who had intercepted with the can she's currently holding.

"Don't drink anything from a cup unless I give it to you, 'kay?" he whispered in her ear as she rolled her eyes. He tells her this at every party they go to (granted, there weren't a lot), and while it used to be endearing, it's just a little annoying now.

Most of her apprehension comes from the fact that she's always apprehensive when it comes to Santana Lopez, and being in her house feels a little like walking into the lion's den, but she hasn't seen the girl at all since that moment at the entrance, and she almost forgot where she is. She waves at Megan, her new friend, currently dragging her grumbling hockey player boyfriend towards the makeshift dance floor. She grins with pride as she watches Finn describing, for the fifth time, in great detail, that last touchdown to a new crowd, content to stand a little to the side to let him bask in all the glory. She knows all about the rush that comes from being in the spotlight, and she's not about to begrudge him his time.

"Yo Hudson!" She turns at the same time he does, watching as a burly blonde (Josh, she thinks, the Safety, or something like that) points towards the far end of the room. "Beer Pong, aisle two!"

She watches as he looks towards her before turning his attention back to his teammate, shaking his head.

"C'mon! Don't be a blowhard!"

"Some other time dude!"

"Go ahead," she tells him. He looks down at her in surprise before he grins.

"Nah."

"I know you want to."

"Well yeah, but-"

"It's your night remember? Go have fun! Look, Noah's already waving at you," she says, rolling her eyes as the other boy waves his middle finger at her boyfriend.

"You sure?" he asks, but his eyes are already looking eastwards and she grins.

"I can be your own private little Cheerio," she answers flirtatiously, batting her eyelashes in a joking manner.

"Well I can't say no to that, can I?" he says with a grin, pulling her along as she laughs.

Xxx

The crowd is pretty rowdy, but she thinks she's yelling the hardest when Finn once again lobs his ball into the other team's cup. She's still a little rusty at the rules of the game, but she knows enough to know that her boyfriend is winning, so she claps her hands enthusiastically, laughing as he turns around to wink at her.

"Ah Berry." She turns at the slur, surprised to find Santana standing next to her, obviously drunk by the slightly vacant look in her eyes.

"Hey Santana. Great party," she says, standing uncomfortably as Santana's gaze slowly moves from her feet up to her face.

"You know," she mumbles, leaning forwards to rest a hand on Rachel's shoulder. "Every time you open your mouth I wanna stab you with a razor, but I gotta admit, you got it going _on_."

"Excuse me?"

"Maybe it's the whole innocent Mormon thing. Or like, Amish. But I'd totally do you. Like, maybe with a gag over your mouth or something, 'cause you _talk_ too much Berry!"

"Erm- Santana, you're _really_ drunk. Maybe you should lie down-"

"Yeah, yeah. Hey Yentl, wanna go lie down together?" Santana whispers conspitorially as she leans her head against Rachel's shoulder, her hands slipping through the jacket to play with the strap of her dress. Rachel's eyes widen just a little as she pulls away. "I'm great with scissoring. Ask Brittany."

"What is-"

"O-_kay_!"

She feels two strong arms pulling her away as his familiar voice booms over the noise of the crowd. She looks up to find Finn glaring at Santana, who looks like she's about to tip over at any moment.

"I think that's enough party for tonight, right Rach?"

"But what about your game?"

"It's over."

"No it's not, cockblocker!" Noah shouts. She turns to shoot him a dirty look before looking up to see Finn doing the same.

"Piss off Puckerman! C'mon Rachel."

"Are you sure?" she asks, allowing him to pull her along, ignoring the jeers from the crowd as they walk past.

"Yep. Let's just go hang out somewhere."

"Okay."

Xxx

"It's so weird," she starts as she lies down next to him on the bed of his truck. They're parked in the school parking lot, which would be weird for a lot of people, but she's realized that it's the best spot to look up at the vast expanse of stars above them, and she kind of loves the idea of this place being a spot just for the two of them.

"What is?" Finn asks, intertwining their fingers as he looks up.

"I think Santana is secretly attracted to me. Don't you think?"

He doesn't reply, so she continues talking, absentmindedly, toying with his fingers.

"Physically, I mean. And when she's drunk anyway. I'm almost a hundred percent positive that she was propositioning me to have lesbian sex with her in the guest room. And while that is unbelievably crude, and not to mention completely insensitive to my sexual orientation, I have to admit it's flattering that she sees me that way. I mean, who would have thought that behind all those derogatory words- I- Finn what are you doing?" she asks, surprised when he suddenly looms over her, a determined look on his face.

She feels her breath catch in her throat as his hands splay out on the surface on each side of her head, his right leg resting between hers. The look of resolve turns into another, softer, expression as he leans closer, until it turns into a half smile when he's just a breath away. She closes her eyes when she feels his lips on hers, wrapping her arms around his neck as he deepens his kiss, one of his hands tangling in her hair to bring her head up closer towards him. She can taste that tangy taste of beer on his tongue and the chocolate they bought at the gas station on their way. She feels the butterflies swooping down the bottom of her stomach and back up to her chest, and they remind her that she needs to breathe.

She pulls away, but not that far, and their foreheads lean close together as they catch their breath, sharing the same air with their lips barely grazing each other.

"What was that for?" she asks breathlessly, smiling as he kisses the space just below her left ear.

"Don't ever talk to Santana alone when she's drunk, okay?" he whispers against her ear, his hot breath raising goosebumps all along her arms. She grins, grabbing his head in her hands to pull him up to look at her.

"Were you jealous?" she teases, grinning wide.

"Hell yeah," he says. "She had her hands on my girl. That was not okay."

"Yeah, well this girl only one wants one pair of hands all over her, so you've got nothing to worry about."

"Good," he mumbles, playfully nudging the tip of her nose with his as she giggles.

Xxx

"Finn," she whispers quietly, her ear pressed to his chest as she listens to the steady hum of his heartbeats.

"Yeah?"

"Maybe there's something in that Coke after all."

"What?" he asks, alarmed as he pulls his head up to look down at her. "Are you okay? Do you feel sick?"

She shakes her head as she grins.

"Nope. I feel giddy, and light. Kinda like I'm drunk. Really, _really_ happy."

She loves seeing the grin that lights up his face when he gets it.

"That's not the Coke," he says, smiling as he tucks her hair behind her ear.

"So I guess it's just you."

"Yep."


	38. Monkey Business

**A/N: tumblr prompt**

* * *

><p>"Rachel?" he starts hesitantly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Baby?"<p>

She continues to keep her eye on the TV screen. The only sign of acknowledgement is when one hand primly takes his wrist to drop it away from her shoulder. He holds back a sigh.

"Rach, c'mon. It's been like, four hours. You're starting to freak me out."

He slides himself into the ridiculously tight space between the shoulder of the couch next to where she's sitting, his body pressing into hers as she turns to shoot him a dirty look. He knows he screwed up, and she's really, _really_ pissed. And he can't really blame her either (well, he _can_, but that will most assuredly not go down well. At all.), because it was kind of his idea, even though, you know, she was totally into it, until… well, until it happened.

But still. The longest she had ever gone without speaking to him was a whole 24 hours, and _that_ was when he got drunk with a few guys from work and missed their dinner date. But _this_, this is kind of turning into a close second.

He holds his breath as she finally relaxes next to him, making a big show of shuffling uncomfortably before she lets out a loud and dramatic sigh as she leans away from him. The TV is showing a rerun of Friends, and you know Rachel's pissed when even Phoebe can't make her crack a smile. But at least it's a comedy, which is better than a drama, or even worse, Sophie's Choice, which was the last movie she watched when she determinedly ignored him.

Tentatively, Finn reaches out a hand to grab hers. He holds his breath, and when she doesn't snatch hers away, proceeds to gently brush his fingers along her knuckles, quietly playing with the ring on her finger.

"I'm sorry baby," he mumbles as he leans in closer, resting his jaw on her shoulder. She doesn't turn to look at him.

"Is Dave still here?" she asks tersely. He nods, carefully wrapping his free arm around her to pull her in closer. "Did he say anything?"

"He said it's gonna take a few hours, but we'll get a new toilet by the end of the day."

He doesn't mention that Dave the plumber said all this with an obvious smirk on his face and a little '_way to go Buddy_' pat on Finn's arm when he turned to leave. 'Cause, you know, he's trying to pacify her here, not get kicked out of the bedroom.

"Good," she answers quietly. She's silent as he continues to soothingly touch her, his fingers moving from her hands up her arms, rubbing gentle circles over her shirt. She turns to him suddenly, and her wide brown eyes startle him as they look angrily into his.

"I _told_ you," she hisses furiously. "I told you it was a bad idea!"

"I know. I'm- _ow_!"

"I cannot believe that you _broke_ our toilet!"

"Um- well, actually, you were the one-" The glare she gives him is so deadly, he feels it go straight through his body. "You're right baby," he says hastily. "It was all my fault."

"God, this is _so_ embarrassing!"

"Rachel, no-"

"Now Dave knows-"

"He _doesn't_." He totally does.

"And he's going to think we're just- just _complete_ perverts-"

He's pretty sure Dave's thinking something _else_.

"Baby no-"

"That is the _last_ time Finn Hudson! No more monkey business in- in places we _shouldn't_ be doing _it_!"

"But-"

"No! I swear to God Finn-"

"Okay, okay. I _promise_, okay?" he placates, holding his hands up when she jumps off the couch to glare at him. Her chest is heaving, and her face is blood red, but her shoulders relax even though she's still obviously mad. He shoots her a harmless grin and she deflates.

"Okay," she finally says, "You promise."

"Scout's honor," he swears, opening his arms as she climbs onto his lap. She leans against him as they watch the show together, and even though she's already giggling and he knows he shouldn't push his luck, he can't help himself. He needs to know, okay?

"Baby?" he whispers quietly against her hair.

"Hmm?"

"What about the shower wall? No, no hear me out. I just- you know, for future reference and all that."

"I- I guess the shower is okay."

"The coffee table?"

"That too."

"So that covers all the other tables right? What about the kitchen counter?"

"Well, it was fine the last time-"

"Great. So like, the car?"

"Finn-"

""Cause nothing bad happened the last time and-"

"_Finn_-"

"And you know, the washing machine-"

"Oh my God _Finn_!"

"_Okay_, okay. Sorry. The washing machine's totally acceptable."


	39. Manicures

**A/N: Tumblr prompt: Manicures  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"<em>Daddyyyy<em>!" Lily whines in annoyance, rolling her eyes at the way Finn's brows are furrowing in confusion.

"What?" he asks, distracted. He's never been a good multi-tasker, so he really wishes that the kid would shut up for a second, cause she's been talking non-stop for like, thirty minutes. But seriously. How do women even _do_ this shit?

"You're doing it all wrong!"

"What? No I'm not! See?" he demands, gesturing for her to get off the chair she's sitting on to look at Rachel's toes. Lily comes and takes a look, and proceeds to look at him pointedly.

"Mommy's gonna be _so_ mad at you," she tells him. Crap. Okay fine, so there's like, nail polish on her skin, but you can barely see it anyway, and at seven months, Rachel can't even _see_ any part of her feet, literally, since their son is kinda blocking everything in her path 'cause he's growing so quickly ("Five and a _half_ pounds Finn. In _seven_ months! I swear if he gets your head, you're pushing him out yourself.").

But that's what mirrors are for though. He groans. He told his wife that he should be the last person putting nail polish on _anything_, least of all her tiny toes, but Rachel had insisted that she _needed_ a manicure (she totally doesn't. Her toes are fine), and that she was entirely too pregnant to actually go out for one (which, granted, is kind of true), and because apparently, _he_ 'made her this way', that job falls on him.

He didn't bother trying to tell her that it takes two to salsa, because he tried that when she made him shave her legs while she was pregnant with Lily and, well, he doesn't really need a reminder of what resulted in him shaving them anyway.

Lily's giving him this look, like she's disappointed in him or something, and when exactly did his eight year old begin to start channeling her mother anyway?

"C'mon Lil, you can barely see it." Lily straightens up, her hands on her hips as she shoots him a snooty look.

"Just because I can't see it, doesn't mean it's not there daddy. That smudge on mommy's big toe will still be there."

He stares at her, dumbfounded. _God_, it's like Rachel fell asleep and her soul (or essence or whatever) decided to hang out in Lily's body or something.

"Well, what should I do?"

"You should get the nail polish remover."

"The what?"

Lily sighs like the little drama queen that she is, rolling her eyes dramatically before bounding away towards the dresser for a bottle that he guesses must be the nail polish remover.

"Watch me, daddy," she says commandingly, snatching the cloth off the edge of the bed. "I know what I'm doing. Mommy showed me how."

He hides a smile as he watches his daughter get to work, popping open the bottle like a pro and doing… whatever the hell it is she's doing. Rachel stretches at one point, when Lily's fingers glide against a sensitive patch of skin, letting out a small giggle before she goes right back to sleep. The woman practically _hibernates_ these days.

"There!" Lily says proudly about five minutes later, turning to him with a giant beam on her face. "See?" she asks, pointing to her mother's toes, the polish now clean and even. "Perfect."

He chuckles, leaning forward to give her a hug.

"You're a lifesaver Liliput," he says affectionately. She grins up at him, sighing dramatically.

"Whatever will you do without me daddy?


End file.
